


Don't Wake Me Up

by Rawren (Zimothy)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Druid!Stiles, M/M, Past Abuse, Psychological Trauma, Slow Build, themes of slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-01-08 02:35:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zimothy/pseuds/Rawren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Look at me," Laura commanded. The druid remained still, but Derek could see the way his lip twitched and his heart beat picked up just the tiniest bit.  Laura grabbed at his chin, forcing his head up. "Look at me."</p><p>At first, there was no response, a split second of hesitation, and then the druid's eyes came up, ghosting over Laura's face for a moment and then focusing on some distant point past her ear. </p><p>"Good enough." Laura muttered, letting go and turning to Derek. "Get this one," she snapped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> beta'd by youshinebrighter

Laura let out a loud sigh the second she flopped into the seat across from Derek, arms settling onto the table and fingers interlacing. 

"Derek," she began tentatively. Derek looked up from his laptop, fingers resting lightly on the keys and the cursor flashing patiently on his essay. He quirked a brow, waiting for her to inevitably begin talking.

After a beat, Laura said, "I'm thinking about getting a druid."

"A druid," Derek echoed, narrowing his eyes. "For...?"

"Uncle Peter," she looked down at her nails, picking at the corners of her thumb. "I know we just brought him home last week, but the cost of a caretaker is almost as much as keeping him in the hospital. If we took in a druid, we could get them to watch Uncle Peter."

"Druids are dangerous." Derek reached out to shut the lid on his laptop, scowling. "There's a reason they're all in facilities. They could kill Peter--could kill us."

"I looked into it," Laura shook her head, "the government will pay us to take one in. They've got a bunch of precautions that will keep us safe. It's kind of like fostering a kid or something."

"Only instead of a kid, we're going to take a strange adult into our house to take care of our vegetative uncle while you're at work and Cora and I are at school."

"God, you're so fucking negative," Laura sighed.

"I'm the cons to your pros," Derek supplied helpfully. Laura gave him an exaggerated eye roll, the corner of her lip quirking up. Derek shrugged, though, and gestured to his sister. "You're the alpha," he reminded her, "whatever you want is what we do."

Shaking her head, Laura picked at a piece of tape stuck to the table. "This is your decision, too. You're my second, and I can't make this decision alone." 

"Okay," Derek pursed his lips. "Why a druid?"

"I... I don't know. Financially, we're okay, but I'm worried about the long run. Peter's life insurance isn't going to last forever, and I don't know how long he's going to be like this. At least with a druid we'll have someone here with him who can read to him and change his sheets, and just be there when we can't. I've read up some stuff online and I think they're not as bad as people make them out to be."

"You're sure about this?"

"I made an appointment with the DCC to visit today. I wanted you to go with me. If we see one we like, we can get one, but we don't have to. Just tell me what you think and I can cancel right now if you think this is a bad idea."

Derek sat back in his chair, crossing his arms. The DCC was the Druid Care Center, where they were kept and cared for until families adopted them in. Derek knew there was one not too far away, just in the next town over, but that was the extent of his knowledge. The most he ever really saw of druids were the occasions when the news talked of rogues who had caused mass deaths or had even gone so far as to take down entire buildings. Part of him knew that not all druids were like that, but it was hard to shake that belief when the only time he heard about them was when there was a massacre involved. 

Another part of him couldn't help but remember being a child and sitting scared in his room as his parents argued downstairs over whether or not the Lycaon Detainment Act was going to pass. For months building up to the vote, his entire family had been terrified at what could happen if the bill had passed. The only reason that it had been a potential law was because of omegas who had gone on killing sprees. Druids weren't much like werewolves, but, for once, Derek could really understand what Laura was getting at.

"It wouldn't hurt to try," he finally settled on saying, shrugging a little. Laura settled, nodding curtly and then glancing at the time on her phone.

"We might as well head over. The appointment's at four."

 

-

The DCC was a plain brown and white building a good mile into the country, surrounded by tall, electrified fences. Derek knew the second they drove through the gate, hair standing on end and body twitching with the smell of electricity in the air. They pulled into the parking lot, heading inside to the lobby so Laura could talk with the receptionist.

Derek was staring at a giant poster listing the reasons why a druid was a great addition to any family when a nurse came out from the back. She greeted them with a smile and a nod before turning to lead them down a few hallways and into a small room. 

"If you'll just wait here, we'll bring the candidates in shortly," she said, smile fake and wide. Laura thanked her and Derek took a seat on the stiff, plastic chair near the door. 

She left, and Laura took in a deep breath before letting it out through her teeth. She turned, giving Derek a tight smile. Derek crossed his arms, shrugging. Neither of them had any idea what was going on, so there no point in putting up pretenses of joy or excitement. 

When the door opened again, six people shuffled in wearing matching gray outfits, each of them with a thick metal and wood band around their throats. 

There were two orderlies flanking the back of the line, large and imposing from their sheer presence. Derek could tell one was human, but the other was a werewolf just like Laura and himself. 

None of the druids looked up, their gazes focused blankly at the wall or floor as they were pushed into a straight line so that each of them faced Laura. Derek stood, walking up next to his sister while she paced in front of them, scowl deepening. He could sense her agitation, his own skin crawling at the near-lifeless way that the druids stood there. They were human, once, before their powers manifested. Derek wasn't sure there was any humanity left behind.

Finally, Laura spun on her heel, staring down the nurse who had led them into the room in the first place. She was holding a stack of folders, clicking the pen in her hand obnoxiously. "Are all of them supposed to be this dead-eyed? We wanted a caretaker, not a bunch of vegetables," she snapped, setting a hand on her hip.

Derek caught the sound of fabric shifting, and when he glanced back to the group, a young man with brown hair and a lanky frame was staring at her. When he realized he'd been caught, he quickly glanced away, eyes unfocusing back onto the wall once more. 

Laura must have seen it too, because she was over to him in a heartbeat, reaching out to pull up his nametag and squint her eyes at his name. Derek stepped closer, double-taking at the foreign mash of letters that must have been his first name with the last name of Stilinski.

"Look at me," Laura commanded. The druid remained still, but Derek could see the way his lip twitched and his heart beat picked up just the tiniest bit. Laura dropped the name tag and grabbed at his chin, forcing his head up. "Look at me."

At first, there was no response, a split second of hesitation, and then the druid's eyes came up, ghosting over Laura's face for a moment and then focusing on some distant point past her ear. 

"Good enough." Laura muttered, letting go and turning to Derek. "Get this one," she snapped, facing the nurse. "Is there any paperwork?" 

The nurse nodded, sifting through the stack of files and then approaching Laura to hand her what must have been Stilinski's folder. Laura passed it to Derek before gesturing at the woman to lead the way.

Another caretaker, one who had been hovering in the corner, came over with a smile. "His first name is hard to pronounce, but his nickname is Stiles, if that's easier for you."

"Stiles," Derek muttered, flipping the folder open and glancing over it. "He takes medication?"

"They all do," the caretaker answered elusively. "If you'll look, there's a record of his past medications and current ones, though I'd suggest keeping him to what he's been prescribed."

"Adderal," Derek muttered, scanning down to when the prescription changed two years prior. "Abilify? He starts on an upper and you change him to a downer?" Derek might not have been planning to major in psychology, but he knew enough that such a change was a little drastic.

Instead of an answer, though, the caretaker just gave him a tight smile and a nod. 

Derek let out a soft sigh, wanting desperately to roll his eyes at the man. Instead, he kept flicking through the paperwork. No loud noises, allergy to shellfish, suffers from RLS. Derek skimmed over the list of behavioral patterns, eyes falling on the history section.

"Nineteen, formerly from the McCall pack in California--he's a werewolf, too?" Derek looked up. 

The caretaker shook his head. "No, a human packmate--well...he was _once_ a human packmate."

Stiles' barely-there flinch said the rest.

Derek snapped the file folder shut, gesturing at Stiles. "So do I just take him or what?"

The caretaker stepped forward, reaching out to curl a hand around Stiles' shoulder. Stiles didn't react, gaze unfocused at the wall, and the caretaker gave Derek another fake smile. "We'll get his things ready for you and bring him to the lobby in a few minutes."

With that, Derek was practically ushered back out into the entry where Laura was standing at the reception desk and filling out the last of the paperwork. Derek pulled his phone out, opening a text to Cora and sending her a quick _be home soon, got a surprise for you_ , and trying not to grin at the idea of Cora's reaction when she realized what the surprise was going to be. It would serve her right after pranking him the week before by taping a bunch of pull-string poppers to his toilet seat and nearly making Derek wet himself when he tried to go to the bathroom.

Laura was sitting down next to him on the small lobby couch when the door finally opened and Stiles emerged with an orderly. He was in a pair of soft cotton pants and a white shirt with slip-ons covering his feet. The only other thing he wore was his collar--which looked like it had been changed into something bigger and meaner looking. Laura got up first as the nurse from before walked into the lobby with a small bag. 

"Here are his things," she said, handing it over. "His medication is in there with instructions, and I made sure to add a few pamphlets on what druids are and whatnot so you can be prepared for just about anything. There are also some packets of herbs that you can use on him if he starts to act up, and here is the remote to his collar." 

The look of disbelief on Laura's face was apparently not enough to stop the nurse from plowing on as she started to point out the buttons. "This one is to shock him--don't worry, it's just a little zap in case he misbehaves--and this is for injections...just get one of these packets out and there's a little syringe in it, see? All you need to do is put it into the slot on his collar and hit that button and it'll calm him down and numb any powers he might be trying to access. The other button is to tighten or loosen the collar, and this last one is to give him a little poke, in case electricity is not your thing and you need to get him back in line."

The more the woman talked, the sicker Derek felt. Stiles was unresponsive, looking blankly out one of the windows while the nurse prattled on to Laura.

"He needs to come in once a week to keep with his training, so make sure to call us in a few days to discuss a set time and date."

"Training?"

"Of course. It's to prevent any possible incidents in the future from occurring. We do the work for you, no effort involved on your part with keeping him from accessing any of his abilities."

Finally, his sister had enough and she took everything from the nurse, interrupting her with a fake smile and a rushed, "I think we've got it. Don't worry, I'm sure we can figure out everything else on our own. I need to get back home to take care of our uncle."

Derek let Laura continue to try and end the conversation with the nurse, going over a few last-minute details about contact information and hotlines, and approached Stiles. "Let's go," he said, gesturing towards the door. Stiles didn't react and Derek reached a hand out to tentatively press it to Stiles' arm. Stiles blinked, shifting his eyes to stare at Derek's cheek. It was better than nothing, and Derek gave Stiles' arm a gentle tug. "Come on."

Stiles allowed himself to be led out the doors, shuffling quietly behind both Derek and Laura. As soon as he was out and into the fresh air, he took in a sharp and sudden breath that had them glancing back. There was no expression on his face, but his hands were trembling just the tiniest bit.

Laura ushered Stiles into the back of the car while Derek got into the passenger seat, and as soon as she started to drive, Laura was instantly ranting. 

"Can you believe that?" she cried, "Shock collars? Is he some kind of dog? What is this crap?" Sucking in a deep breath, Laura let out a noise of anger. "I mean, we go in there and it's like we just relived the 1940s and the flippin' discovery of lobotomy! Does he even talk? I wanted him to read to Peter! How is he going to read when he can't even talk! Did I just waste our time, Derek? I couldn't leave him there, could you? He was the only one who wasn't totally brain dead. Should I have left him there?" 

Derek glanced up into the rearview mirror, intending to just take a peek at Stiles and almost forgetting to breathe. The druid was curled up into a ball against the corner of the back seat, shoulders hunched and body language screaming with the desire to hide himself.

 

"Laura," he said quietly. Laura kept talking, one hand steering and the other waving about as she went on a rant about creepy nurses deserving of their own horror films. Derek reached out, settling a hand on his sister's arm and repeating her name. Laura quieted, taking a second to control her breathing, and then glanced up into the rear mirror.

She must have seen the same thing Derek did, because a pained look crossed her face before she gritted out a soft, "sorry," and focusing her attention back on driving.

Turning a little in his seat, Derek glanced back at Stiles, watching him stare out the window for a second before asking, "Have you kept in touch with your old pack?"

Stiles, at first, remained still, but then turned to stare lifelessly at Derek, blinking slowly. Derek was pretty sure in that instant that Stiles must have hated him by association, if only because of the cruel things that had come from his sister's mouth. 

Usually, Laura wasn't so abrasive, but Derek had a feeling that part of it was due to the fact that they'd just moved Peter into the house and the recent stress of trying to find a decently-priced car for Cora (who had been pestering incessantly about having one of her own so that she didn't have to share with Derek all the time) were starting to get to her.

Derek turned around, settling back into his seat as Laura let out a huff of air and started to talk again. "Okay, kid. You're with us because you're going to take care of our uncle. You have to help him eat, change his clothes, all that jazz. We're all busy and that's why you're here. I really hope you know how to fold clothes because you'll be doing a lot of that, too." 

\--

When they got back home, Laura tossed her keys on the counter, snapping a curt, "make dinner," to Cora and heading down the hallway towards Peter's room. Cora got up from the couch, tucking her phone away and running over to Derek with a smile.

"What's the sur--what is that."

"Surprise," Derek gestured to Stiles, who was standing next to him and staring off into the distance. "We got a druid," he adds helpfully. 

"Derek!" Laura called from Peter's room. "Find somewhere to put him!"

Normally, Derek wouldn't have an issue obeying his alpha--except that they didn't have any spare bedrooms to put Stiles in. Cora had moved in with Laura to make room for Peter because they only had three rooms in their apartment. 

"Dude, you suck," Cora hissed at him, making sure to give him a mean punch to the shoulder as she walked by on her way into the kitchen.

Derek frowned, watching Stiles' unfocused stare at the wall, wracking his brain for ideas. Did he put Stiles on the couch, or did he try to fit him into their laundry room? Derek had no idea how big the laundry room even was because half the time Laura just ended up washing his clothes when she got sick of the piles of dirty laundry he usually kept in a heap on his floor. 

Derek headed for the laundry room first, opening the door and staring inside. The washer and dryer were stacked on top of one another, and there was a half-empty basket in the corner with some sheets and towels sitting in it. He took a second, mentally trying to imagine Stiles sleeping on the floor, and then frowned upon realizing that it was too small of a space.

He turned, freezing at the sight of Stiles hovering behind him, like he'd been compelled to follow. Derek didn't want to look like an idiot for trying to see if he could fit Stiles in their teeny washroom, so he turned back around and spent a good minute shoving the sheets into the washing machine and starting a load.

Heading back into the living room, Derek pointed to the couch. "Sit."

Stiles shuffled past him, stiffly taking a seat in the corner and watching Derek's general area with a wary look.

"Stay." Derek said, and headed down the hallway to talk to Laura. 

He found her changing Peter's sheets, and waited a second before blurting, “Where do I put him? He doesn't fit in the laundry room."

Laura froze, standing up straight and staring incredulously at Derek. "Why did you put him in the laundry room? Does he _look_ like a towel?"

At a loss, Derek shrugged.

"He can stay with you," Laura shook out Peter's comforter, laying it across the bed. "Sharing space won't kill you. Get over it."

Derek wanted to point out that sharing space with a creature that had the potential to decimate a seven story building could kill him, but he had a feeling Laura wouldn't appreciate the commentary. Instead of voicing his opinion, Derek just let out a pained sigh, making sure to roll his eyes hard enough that Laura would be sure to see it, and walked back out of Peter's room.

He detoured to his bedroom, kicking around all of his dirty laundry until it was piled over by his hamper and then tossing it all in. He shuffled towards the bed, lifting it by the frame to kick more stuff underneath of it. After his floor was relatively cleared, Derek made his way to the hallway closet to fetch the air mattress.

After pumping the mattress and putting some sheets on it, Derek headed back into the living room to see Stiles still in the exact same spot he’d been in for the past half hour. Derek gestured, "Come on," and waited for Stiles to follow.

When they got to his room, Derek let Stiles take a few steps in before saying, "this is my room. That's your bed."

At first, Stiles didn't react, but then he glanced around slowly and said in the tinest, most tentative voice, "What about clothes?"

As far as Derek knew, the facility hadn't provided them with any other clothes for Stiles. He stared blankly, waiting for the druid to elaborate. All Stiles did, though, was purse his lips and look away with a soft, "okay," before slipping off his shoes and climbing into his bed.

Derek had no idea what to do or even say, so he turned and left the room. Stiles didn't come out for the rest of the afternoon or at all that night. Derek made sure to bring up Stiles' lack of belongings to Laura over dinner, to which they both decided to get him a few things in the morning. 

When Derek went back into his room after a few hours of studying, he was surprised to see Stiles laying in the same position as before, eyes open and unseeing. Part of him was concerned, but the greater part of Derek was far too creeped out to really do anything about it. Instead, he changed into a pair of sweats and climbed into bed, already mentally calculating a list of things he'd need to buy in the morning and how much it would cost them. 

He fell asleep to the sound of Stiles' steady heartbeat and perfect, even breaths.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you should all thank [yiji](http://yijitumbles.tumblr.com/) for being my sounding board for fic stuff.  
> chapter beta'd by whovianhoney :D

The first thing Laura did the following morning, was to dump out the bag of supplies that the DCC had given them. There were two bottles of medication, both of which she shoved into the spice cabinet after taking a moment to realize they didn't actually _have_ a medicine cabinet. She dropped the herb packets and remote to Stiles' collar into the junk drawer in the kitchen, then took a second to rifle through the pamphlets the nurse had given her. Deeming them all useless, she tossed the entire stack into the trash. 

Derek watched Laura's face remain neutral for the whole process, before he finally piped up. "So we're keeping him?"

Laura glanced over, frowning. "It's only been a day," she pointed out. His response was to shrug one shoulder. Laura sighed, reaching for her mug of coffee and taking a long sip. "I don't feel comfortable with him here, but I think that's just because he's in our house and he's not pack...I need a week or two to decide if it's going to work out or not."

"Okay." Derek said, pulling away from the counter, he grabbed his water bottle and headed out the door to go for a jog.

Cora was up by the time Derek got back, blearily eating a fried egg sandwich that looked a little burnt around the edges. Stiles was sitting next to her, hands in his lap and staring blankly at the wall. Derek grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl. He dropped it in front of him on the table and muttered, "Let us know when you're hungry," before he headed for the bathroom to take a shower. 

When he came out, Stiles was in their room, sitting on his bed and looking out the window. Derek ignored him, dropping his towel to put on some underwear and jeans. He tugged a shirt on while heading back out of the room to grab something to drink. There was a rustling behind him, followed by soft footsteps, as the druid followed. 

Stiles hovered just outside of the kitchen while Derek made himself a glass of water. He still wore the same clothes from the day before, and Derek made a mental note to do something about that when he had a chance. He set his glass down on the counter, walking into the living room to sit on the couch and turn the TV on to the news. Stiles shuffled over, standing next to the couch for a minute and then straightening when Laura walked into the room. He followed her down the hall and Derek could hear the sound of laundry being put into the dryer. 

After a few moments, Laura snapped "Go sit down or something. I'll tell you if I need you."

Stiles came back into the living room and stood next to the couch again, hesitating until Derek told him, "You can sit."

He sat stiffly, palms resting on his knees and eyes unfocused as he gazed straight ahead. 

When Derek got tired of watching tragic stories and the occasional stupid report about lost puppies or the declining educational system, he shut the TV off and went to get his laptop out of his room. Stiles followed--again--which Derek was starting to realize might become a regular occurrence. Derek stopped at Laura and Cora's room, hovering in the doorway to see Cora lounging on her bed and playing on her computer. Stiles was standing a few inches behind him, hovering in the same way Derek was.

Derek continued to stand there, watching, until Cora finally looked up to see them both staring at her.

"You're so creepy! Go away!" she snapped, annoyance growing when Derek just grinned a little. She grabbed one of her pillows, flinging it across the room at him. He moved to the side, turning when there was a soft _fwump_ behind him to see Stiles looking just a little taken aback at being nailed in the face with a decorative pillow.

"Oh, shit," Cora cursed softly, sitting up. She was tense, worried at what Stiles was going to do. Derek realized she was just as put-off by having a druid in the house as Derek initially had been. Stiles didn't seem to notice, bending down to pick up the pillow and then shuffling into the room to set it back on the bed next to her arm. He stepped back, keeping his head ducked as he returned to Derek's side.

Derek took great pleasure to see Cora gaping at Stiles like her entire world view had just been shifted.

"What's going on?" Laura appeared at Stiles' side, ignoring the way he seemed to straighten up and go still.

"Nothing," Derek answered. Laura narrowed her eyes, silently letting Derek know she thought he was full of shit, then turned to Stiles.

"Come on, you. I'm going to show you what you're going to be doing before I go to work."

\--

After Laura left for work, Stiles stayed in Peter's room for most of the afternoon. Derek stopped in a few times to check, catching him folding laundry or organizing Peter's CD collection. The third time he went in, to find Stiles sitting in Peter's recliner, hands in his lap as he stared off at the wall while Peter slept. 

"You don't have to stay in here if he's asleep," Derek said quietly. Stiles blinked slowly, turning to look at Derek. With a shrug, Derek continued, "I'm making dinner...wanna help?"

Stiles got up, taking a second to glance back at Peter and then trailed after Derek. He always dragged his feet, Derek noticed. It was a lethargic _shuff shuff_ noise, like they were too heavy for him to actually pick up off of the ground. 

When they got to the kitchen, Stiles immediately went to the fridge and opened it. He took out the ground beef that had been sitting in a bag on the shelf, setting it on the counter and before shuffling over to the cabinets to find a pan.

Derek didn't mean to, but he ended up sitting back and watching as Stiles browned the meat and began to make a basic pasta dish. It wasn't until halfway through that Derek went to the fridge to grab some vegetables, a clove of garlic and half an onion to chop up and sauté for the sauce. They worked together in silence, occasionally bumping elbows or shoulders, until the pasta was all prepared and simmering in the saucepan.

Laura got home just as Derek was quietly showing Stiles how to crush some garlic into a bowl of melted butter for home-made garlic bread. She slammed the front door, throwing her keys onto the table and bursting out with, "I swear to God, people piss me off!" Then went off on a tangent about one of her coworkers, and how unprofessional it was to gossip about the management and personal lives of strangers. She wasn't even done with one story before shifting to talk about a caller who had cursed her out because she refused to send a patrol out to his house just because some homeless man had peed in the bushes. 

One minute, Stiles was standing there like a deer caught in the headlights, a basting brush in one hand and the tray of bread in the other. The next, Laura let out an aggravated snarl and he was dropping everything and hightailing it out of the room. Derek watched him move quickly down the hall and disappear into their shared room. All while Laura wrenched open a cabinet, grabbed a glass and slammed it shut.

"I think you scared him," he told her, picking up the bread and finishing what Stiles hadn't. Laura poured herself a glass of water, frowning.

"Who?"

"The druid," Derek tossed the bread into the oven, setting a timer and then checking on the pasta for a moment. "He was in here before you started yelling."

Laura made a face, sipping at her water. "Drama queen," she grumbled, setting the glass down and pushing herself off of the counter to head down the hallway. Derek followed her, peering into his room to see Stiles making Derek's bed, movements stiff.

"Hey," Laura began. Stiles froze, turning to face her without a moment's hesitation. "Did you run because I started yelling?" Laura walked into the room, approaching the druid until she was only a few paces away.

Derek could see the exact moment that Stiles shut down. His eyes lost focus, gaze drifting to somewhere past her shoulder, and his hands went limp at his sides. Laura must have caught it too, because she reached out to grab at his chin, squeezing hard enough that he snapped back to attention with a sharp inhale. Derek could hear his heartbeat picking up, the room filling with the acrid scent of fear.

"Did I scare you?" Laura asked. Stiles didn't answer, staring at her ear and keeping his form as rigid as possible. She frowned, and Derek had to tamp down the compulsion to make her be nice to Stiles. Instead, he hovered as she shook her head and let her hand drop.

"I'm not mad at you, I was just venting about work. I didn't mean to scare you."

Stiles blinked, and for a second he glanced up and locked eyes with her before it became too much and he ducked his head down again.

It seemed that was enough for Laura, because she sighed and stepped back. "I'll finish dinner."

Derek watched her go, and then turned to Stiles. "Come on," he said, heading out of the room knowing Stiles would follow.

They sat down on the couch while Laura pulled out the garlic bread and Cora came sniffing from her room. Derek got up to get himself a plate, elbowing his sister out of the way and stealing half the loaf of bread before making his way to the table. Laura went to give Peter his share when Derek realized Stiles was still on the couch.

Cora noticed as well, because she turned and snapped, "Get some food!" that had Stiles standing and making his way into the kitchen. 

Peter must have been more lucid than normal, because Laura returned in a few minutes, her energy calm and relaxed as she said, "He's eating on his own," before taking a seat. She was onto her third bite of food when she sighed and snapped "Sit down," to Stiles, who was standing near the table with a paper plate that had hardly any food on it. 

Quietly, Stiles did as he was told. 

Later, after the dishes were done and Laura had gone to bed, Derek hunkered himself down in front of the TV with his laptop and an email detailing his latest homework assignment. Stiles had appeared at some point and, after Derek's permission, settled himself down on the other end of the couch. 

Derek didn't pay him much mind until a few hours later when he'd finished the first draft of his paper and had gotten up to stretch and shut off the TV. Stiles had curled up into a ball with his head drooped onto his arm, breathing soft and sleepy. The second the noise from the TV stopped however, he blinked awake and watched drowsily as Derek left the room to head to bed. 

Stiles crept in a few minutes later, curling back into a ball atop his air mattress that squeaked every time he shifted. Derek was asleep before Stiles had even finished settling.

\--

Stiles wasn't in bed when Derek got up the next morning. After a moment of listening, he could hear Peter talking and the sound of two heartbeats in his uncle's room. Most of the time when Peter was aware enough to talk, his words didn't make much sense. Stiles was quiet though, despite the fact that Peter had asked him twice in less than a minute who he was. 

After a shower and breakfast, Derek returned to the couch with his laptop to work on his paper some more before class. He wasn't far from getting his master's degree in literature and communications, and after four years of working towards it, Derek was more than ready. He'd taken time off school after his GED, had worked a little while Cora was finishing high school, but when Laura had pleaded with him to go back to school, Derek had agreed to her terms that he switch to a weekend job in order to get his degree. 

Laura, in exchange, worked six days a week as a 911 dispatcher to make sure he and Cora could get through school without worrying about using up the last of their inheritance. Derek felt guilt about it constantly, but as her beta, he couldn't really argue with his sister's decision.

When Derek tried to boot up his laptop, the screen gave him an error message before restarting. He waited, expecting the problem to be resolved, and frowned when it began to restart again. After the fourth reboot, Derek let out a frustrated sound and stood up. His entire thesis was on the hard drive--he hadn't backed-up a copy online in weeks, which meant that if he had to wipe the hard dive, pages and pages of hard work would be lost. 

"Cora!" He shouted. "Did you touch my laptop?"

"No!" Cora called back. "I have my own!"

Derek sighed, swatting the lid down on his computer and stomping towards the door. He grabbed his wallet and keys from the counter, snatching his backpack from next to the door. "I'm going to the library! My laptop is broken, I'll be back after class!"

"I don't care!" Cora sang back to him. Derek rolled his eyes, slipping out of the apartment as frustration made his gut churn. 

Cora was sitting on the couch when he came back, one leg crossed over the other as she texted someone on her phone. He tossed her the keys, knowing she had class soon, and dropped his bag by the door before heading into the kitchen to grab some water. He opened the spice cabinet, intending to steal a handful of chocolate chips from Laura's stash, but frowning as he caught sight of the pill bottles sitting there.

"Hey, did you give Stiles his medication?"

"He takes medicine?" Cora asked. 

"He's supposed to," Derek muttered, pulling the pill bottle down and reading the prescription information for a second. 

"Speaking of Stiles. He was messing with your laptop earlier, just a heads up," Cora said, standing and pocketing her phone. "Might want to look at it."

Derek set the pills down, scowling. It seemed odd that he would try to touch Derek's computer. Stiles didn't even like to sit down or do anything without permission. Derek went over to the couch, opening his laptop and watching as it loaded.

When the login screen appeared, he let out a surprised noise.

"He fixed it." Derek said in disbelief. Cora appeared next to him, peeking over his shoulder.

"Huh. Maybe he's not a robot," she said thoughtfully, shrugging and then heading out the door with a parting wave and an absent, "going to class now. Bye!"

Derek logged into his laptop, running a quick check on his history and thesis only to see that everything was in order. He grinned, part of him wanting to grab Stiles and thank him profusely, and the other part knowing that Stiles would probably have an aneurysm if Derek even tried such a thing. 

He went back into the kitchen, grabbing the abandoned pill bottle and getting some water before calling Stiles' name. He was there within seconds, posture tense. Derek gave him a small, encouraging smile. "You fixed my computer?"

Stiles nodded.

"Thank you. You didn't have to." Derek held out Stiles' medication. "We forgot to give it to you yesterday. Is it okay to take it in the afternoon?" 

Taking the cup and pill, Stiles shrugged one shoulder in a way that implied he wasn't sure, but he was going to do it anyway. Derek was a little concerned with exactly how far Stiles' instinct to obey went. 

He was starting to smell a little bit, just in the way that anyone did after a few days without showering. Derek realized that no one had bothered to tell Stiles he _could_ shower. Derek had been left in charge of Stiles by default of being the alpha's second, and he was already doing a terrible job of it. 

"You can take a shower if you want."

Swallowing his medicine, Stiles looked at Derek with wide eyes, lowering the cup from his mouth slowly like he was waiting for Derek to revoke his decision. Derek instead added, "Don't worry about using all the hot water either."

The cup made a loud clack when Stiles set it on the counter nearest him as he quickly shuffled his way towards the bathroom, looking more eager than Derek had seen him during his entire stay so far. 

While Stiles was in the shower, Derek went over to the two plastic bags that had been sitting on the table all morning. He usually ignored that sort of thing--most of the time it was because either Laura or Cora had felt too lazy to put their shopping away--but this time he peeked inside. The first bag contained a few toiletries and the second had a pack of black tees, a package of briefs, and a set of plain black pajama pants. They were all too small for Derek, so he was pretty sure Laura had picked them up for Stiles before she had to go to work. 

He rummaged around in the hallway closet until he found an old napkin basket that had seen better days and put the toothbrush, toothpaste, soap and shampoo into it. For now, Stiles could use Derek's stuff, but next time he'd have his own things. The shower turned off and Derek headed over to the bathroom so that when Stiles emerged wearing the three-day old clothes that were starting to smell, he shoved the clothes and basket of toiletries at Stiles. 

"Here, Laura got you some stuff. You can shower whenever you want, just not more than twice a day. We get a grant for having you, and that covers your share of the bills."

Stiles was staring down at the things in his arms, overwhelmed, before he nodded furiously and hurried back into the bathroom to change. He re-emerged moments later with a dazed look in his eyes, smelling of toothpaste and lips curled at the corners like he was trying to smother a smile but couldn't help himself. 

"You can wash your clothes with mine, just make sure you use the unscented fabric softener, okay?"

Again, Stiles nodded, clutching his clothes to himself and shuffling towards their room. Derek watched him set his other shirts and briefs into two neat piles next to his bed before standing up with his dirty clothes, hesitating. Derek gestured to the giant mound of his own dirty laundry. "Be my guest. I think some of Peter's clothes are in the washer, so just put them in the dryer and fold them when they're done."

Stiles did as he was told, taking an armful of Derek's shirts and pants with him before he went into the laundry room. 

Derek brought his laptop into his room, settling down to do some research for a little while. He heard Laura come home at some point, turning on the radio in the living room while she washed the dishes. After getting enough progress on his paper that he felt satisfied with himself, Derek got up and headed for the kitchen to see what Laura was making for dinner. 

Stiles was curled up on the couch, head pillowed on his arms and dozing. Considering how many times Derek had seen him awake in the middle of the night, he was starting to figure that Stiles had insomnia or something. Laura was dancing to the music on the radio while she chopped up some chicken for stir fry. He sat down at the table, resting his chin in his hand. "How was work?"

"Nothing special, I talked a kid down from suicide though...that felt nice." Laura answered quietly, smiling a little. "How's the druid?"

"Fine," Derek muttered, "he did some laundry, took a shower, I gave him the stuff you bought him. He seemed happy about it...well, I think he did. He fixed my laptop while I was at class earlier."

Laura turned, peering at Derek and then to Stiles, who had his head tucked into the fold of his arms like he was trying to make himself into the tightest ball possible in his sleep. "He fixed it?"

"Yeah. Didn't do anything else. I checked the history and everything."

"Hm."

"Peter talks to him," Derek added, "I heard them this morning. Asked him who he was a few times, but it's better than nothing."

She looked over to Stiles' napping form, lips pursing thoughtfully. "You think I made the right choice?"

Derek thought about his day, the way Stiles had acted since he'd gotten there, and said "I think that they did something to him."

Laura looked at him sharply. "What do you mean?"

With a shrug, Derek scratched at the stubble along his jaw. "Something's off about him...I don't know. He was human once, wasn't he? Shouldn't he act more human, then? He's so afraid of everything."

Sighing, Laura took a seat at the table with Derek, running her hand through her hair. "I don't know Derek. I just wanted someone to look after Peter. I didn't sign up for all of this."

"Neither did I," Derek pointed out, something making his gut uneasy, "but aren't you glad we didn't leave him there?"

"Yeah," Laura admitted after a moment, "yeah. I am."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta'd by howlingmonster  
> please keep in mind that this is going to be relatively long and that there will be a lot of development along the way. Some things might seem off for the character, but they have undergone experiences that alter who they are and how they act, and it will take time for them to overcome that.

Derek woke up the next morning to the sun shining through the cracks in his blinds, slanting across his face and warming his cheeks. He rolled out of bed, shuffling past Stiles' empty air mattress to head for the bathroom. When he finally made it to the living room, he had to double-take at the sight of Stiles curled up and dozing on the couch. The news was playing, volume down low, and Cora was sitting on the other end of the couch with a mug of coffee in one hand and her phone in the other.

"Has he been here all night?" Derek mumbled tiredly, scratching at the itchy stubble on his cheek. 

Cora shrugged, sipping her coffee. "Got up and came down here a little while ago."

Stiles didn't stir, and Derek hummed thoughtfully. "Weird," he uttered under his breath, going into the kitchen to make breakfast. Halfway through scrambling some eggs, Derek looked up to see Stiles peering at him sleepily from the couch, hair disheveled and eyes drooping.

Derek cracked three more eggs into the pan and put more bread in the toaster.

By the time he was finished cooking, Cora had gone off to shower and get dressed for class and Stiles was watching the food be plated with longing.

"Come eat," Derek said gruffly, setting down a glass and then frowning. "Orange juice okay?"

Scrambling off of the couch, Stiles nodded and then silently slipped into his chair, watching Derek pour him a glass. He tilted his head up, the corners of his lips curling into a thankful grin. Derek tried to ignore the way that guilt ate at him like it did every time Stiles showed appreciation for anything he was given and sat down to eat.

After breakfast, Derek tossed his dishes in the sink and went to grab a quick shower before he threw some clothes on and grabbed his laptop and backpack. Cora was waiting at the door, still playing on her phone, and Stiles was standing in the middle of the living room, hands wringing together and eyes staring distantly at the wall. 

Derek almost bypassed him entirely when he remembered that Stiles needed to take his medication. He stopped, turning and asking, "did Laura give you your medicine?"

Stiles' head twitched for a second before he hesitated and shook it. Derek went to get the bottle from the cabinet, shaking one pill out and moving to drop it into Stiles' palm when it was held out. "Don't kill Peter while we're gone," he said lightly, "and don't burn the apartment down, either." Derek took a cup down from the pantry and filling it with water before handing it over and wracking his brain for anything else to say. "You can probably do some laundry, and make lunch for Peter in a few hours. We'll be back before dinner."

Taking the cup, Stiles stared down at the pill in his hand while Derek grabbed his keys and Cora opened the door. They headed out, and last glimpse Derek got before the door shut behind them was Stiles lifting his cup to swallow down the pill.

\--

When they finally got back home, Derek froze in the threshold to the apartment, struck speechless at the sight of a spotless kitchen and living room. Cora ran into his back, grunting and giving him a shove inside. Derek stepped forward, looking around for another moment before heading for his room to drop his backpack off. The hallway had also been vacuumed, windows opened to let in fresh air and giving the entire apartment a clean, fresh scent. When Derek got to his room he almost wasn't surprised to see that it, too, had fallen victim to the cleaning spree. Even all of his laundry had been washed, folded and hung.

"He organized the spices!" Cora shouted from the kitchen. 

Derek tossed his backpack onto his bed, leaving the room to look for Stiles. He could hear a movie playing in Peter's room, and followed the sound to see Peter sitting quietly in bed, room utterly spotless. The television was on, the second Star Wars movie playing at a medium volume. Derek was pretty sure that none of them had bothered to hook up Peter's TV or DVD player, and that the entire Star Wars trilogy had been sitting in Laura's movie collection in the living room earlier. 

Peter wasn't really watching the movie, he had a distant look like he was sleeping with his eyes open. It was still more lucid than he'd been in the past couple of weeks. Stiles was curled up in the armchair, head resting on his arms and eyes at a sleepy half-mast, watching the movie with a detached interest. 

Derek had no idea what he'd been expecting when he'd first agreed to house a druid, but this was not it. All he could remember hearing were horror stories about druids that would get too strong, about lives sacrificed, homes destroyed and entire blocks decimated from the wrath of magicfolk with too much power and no humanity to tie them down.

All Derek could see was boy who was afraid to shower without permission and looked at Derek like he hung the moon one minute and with fear the next. With each passing day, Derek was starting to wonder exactly how much of the information about druids and the DCC was really filtered by the media.

It was hard, in some ways, to wrap his head around the fact that Stiles wasn't a thing--a druid that only _looked_ human. He lived and breathed, slept and ate, watched movies and cartoons--he wasn't anything like what they'd tried to make Derek think he was. 

The most fucked up part about the entire situation was that they'd all but bought him and had been treating him like some kind of slave. 

Derek felt sick, stomach rolling angrily with nausea at his own actions. He slipped out of the room, heading for the kitchen to make dinner and take his mind off of heavier thoughts. 

That night, after dinner and in the last hours before going to sleep, Derek was settled in bed, studying up for a test he had in the morning by highlighting random words and hoping he retained some of it the next day. Stiles was on his air mattress, arms resting on his back and staring up blankly at the ceiling. His breathing was steady, in and out every other second, but his heartbeat was fast enough that Derek knew he wasn't anywhere close to sleep. 

At first, he thought he could ignore it, but after a while, all Derek could think about was the fast thu-thump of Stiles' heart and the scent of exhaustion that grew heavy in the air. He marked his place in the book he was reading and sat up, grabbing his laptop and backpack and slipping out of bed to go into the living room to try and concentrate. He flicked on the television, settling on a marathon of Treehouse Master for background noise. 

He 'd barely started highlighting the hell out of his textbook when he heard the familiar _shff shff_ of Stiles entering a room. Derek didn't even spare a glance up at him, instead gesturing to the other side of the couch to let him know he could sit. Stiles settled quietly, watching the television while Derek continued to study. 

It was nearly an hour later that Derek finally finished scouring over the chapters needed for class, his highlighter almost completely dry and eyes aching. Dropping the highlighter onto the coffee table, Derek stretched his arms up above his head, arching and trying to work out the tension that had built up. He gathered his things, leaving Stiles to sleep as he shut the TV off and headed back to his room. 

Derek let his books fall on top of his backpack and shucked his pants, crawling into bed and letting out a bone-shaking yawn before he rolled himself up into his blankets. He shut his eyes, listening as Stiles shuffled into the room and sat down on the air mattress. Derek cracked an eye open, blearily watching as Stiles took a second to stare off at the wall and then crawled fully onto the bed and got under the covers. 

Eyes falling shut, Derek belatedly wondered if Stiles would always be weird about sleeping, and then let his mind wander off to other subjects. 

 

-

For one of his assignments, Derek had chosen to write a paper on the evolution of pop culture in modern society. In reality, it was just an excuse to buy popular comics, a few movies, and the best-selling novel about surviving the zombie apocalypse without dealing with Laura's disappointed face. Part of him couldn't help but feel a little childlike over the satisfaction that came with dumping his newly acquired books and DVDs onto his bed and knowing that they were all his and that his sisters couldn't demand he share them. 

Stiles was in Peter's room, Cora in her own, and Laura didn't get home from work until late afternoon. It pretty much left Derek to his own devices for the next handful of hours--until he had to bug Cora that it was her turn to cook dinner and keep her from harassing Stiles into doing it instead. He grabbed two of the comics from his pile, taking them into the living room to flip through and write down any recurring themes he could spot. If he spent more time reading it than necessary, Derek was sure no one would notice.

A few times, Stiles drifted in and out of the room while he did everyone's laundry. Ever since Derek had told him two days prior that he could wash their clothes together, Stiles had taken it as an invitation to wash _everyone's_ clothes. All Cora and Laura had to do was leave the basket out for Stiles and he would clean and fold them without a peep. 

Derek didn't take note of Stiles' disappearance until the washing machine buzzed loudly, yet the druid didn't appear. Derek passed it off as Stiles being preoccupied, and continued scribbling notes down until he was finished with both comics. He stood, going to fetch one of the DVDs and hesitating in his bedroom doorway. Stiles was standing by Derek's bed, the book on zombies in his hands, open, and eyes skimming over the pages. It was obvious he was enraptured, and Derek felt bad when Stiles finally noticed his presence. He fumbled the book, dropping it and stepping back guiltily, hands falling stiffly to his sides. 

It wasn't like Derek was used to dealing with a druid, or even just a person who acted as withdrawn and hollowed-out as Stiles did. To see him actively engaging in something other than what was required of him was enough to leave Derek a little speechless. He cleared his throat, bobbing his eyebrows and trying to act like the entire situation hadn't bothered him one bit. "Washer's done."

Stiles nodded stiffly, gaze focused on a distant point somewhere past Derek's ear. Derek still hadn't gotten the hang of Stiles' habit of shutting off in the middle of a conversation. He sighed and muttered, "you can read the book if you want. I don't care," grabbing the DVD he wanted and shuffling out of the room.

When Stiles came out to toss the clothes into the dryer and then disappeared back into their shared room, Derek counted it as a victory. Another part of him was itching to tell Laura, to let her know that there was so much more to this druid than they'd anticipated. He pulled out his phone, opening up a new text message to compose.

_To: Laura_  
Just found Stiles trying to read one of the books I got for class. Either he's a fan of zombies out of solidarity, or he's still got some human in him.  


_From: Laura  
Yeah. He was watching cartoons with me last night when I couldn't sleep. Dozed off on the couch until I turned it off to go to bed. Not really something I was expecting._

Derek read the message twice before realization hit him like a freight train. 

Stiles couldn't sleep.

Well, he couldn't sleep without noise. Any time the television or the radio was left on, he was always there, always napping. Derek didn't have anything running in the bedroom, but he'd gotten used to falling asleep to the heartbeats of his pack. It was something so simple that he'd never bothered to think about how the deafening silence of his room must sound to an outsider. Druids, as far as Derek knew, didn't have any enhanced senses the way that werewolves did. It was entirely possible that Stiles acted oddly at night because the empty silence kept him awake.

Derek's stomach churned. Stiles had been with them for nearly a week, yet none of them had really questioned his behavior. They just let him be, had let him suffer in silence because he didn't know how to tell them what was wrong. Derek was Laura's second, was the one left in charge while she provided for the pack--yet he hadn't even managed to notice that the one individual left in his care wasn't getting proper sleep. 

"I'm going out!" Derek stood, calling to Cora and Stiles before he grabbed his wallet and his keys and headed out the door. To Laura, he sent a text.

_To: Laura  
He can't sleep without noise, I think. I'm going to test this theory. Also he needs a bed._

_From: Laura  
Shit. Lol. I forgot he's using the air mattress. Why didn't you say smth? Come switch cars and get him a bed. I'll give u money_

Derek sighed, rolling his eyes--even though there was no one around to see it--and started up the Camaro. Laura had invested in a mid-sized SUV a couple years ago, but she only used it for work and transportation of furniture and the occasional 'we haven't gotten groceries in three weeks, let's stock every shelf' trip. 

The dispatcher's office was relatively calm when he got there, people answering lines and typing away at their computers while printers beeped and phones rang. He found Laura talking quietly with someone over her headset, typing away at the computer. She gestured for Derek to wait, asking the person on the line for their address and if the fire had spread to anywhere other than the stove. 

Derek set the keys to the Camaro on her desk as she finished up the call before shoving his palm at her impatiently. 

"Don't forget that beds need sheets, too," was the first thing Laura said when she hung up. Derek almost wanted to be offended, but then he realized he hadn't even thought about sheets until she'd mentioned it. 

He frowned, muttering, "I wasn't going to," as she handed over the keys to her Toyota and her debit card. 

"Right," Laura teased as her line rang again. She reached out to answer it, giving him a parting, "password is mom's birth year," and then turning away from him to take the call. 

The first place Derek went to was the mall. He knew a few of the larger stores sold bedroom furniture, and just as many had electronics. He ended up picking up a small flatscreen television and a fancy-looking pair of bluetooth headphones. The money that would come back from Stiles was enough to cover the cost, so Derek had no qualms in getting a nice pair with noise-canceling cushions on the ears so that Stiles could sleep with them on. It was better than having to stay up all night hearing whatever Stiles listened to. 

He snagged a little radio on his way out that could also be hooked up to the headphones, making a mental note to text Cora and see if she knew where their box set of Lord of the Rings had gone. If anything could help put Stiles to sleep, Derek was sure it would be the twenty-six hours of extras that came with Derek's extended edition copy. 

Derek's favorite part about picking out a bed for Stiles was probably that he got to test them all out first. In the end, he went for the cheapest one that felt comfortable to lay down on and didn't make a lot of noise. The saleswoman pestered him enough about finding matching sheets to go with it that Derek wouldn't have been able to forget, even if he wanted to. He had no idea if Stiles had any preference, so he went with a set of pale blue covered in teal and white designs--but drew the line at dust ruffles. 

After he had everything loaded back into the Toyota with the help of an associate, Derek texted Cora.

_To: Cora  
Tell Stiles to watch a movie with Peter and then give him a bath. Also do you know where the LOTR box set went? I need it._

Cora's response was prompt, and if Derek's phone was anywhere close to leaving the stone age, it would have probably been accompanied by a snapchat.

_From: Cora  
Okay and why??? Okay??_

_To: Cora  
Cuz i said so._

When Derek pulled into the apartment complex, he texted her again.

_To: Cora  
Come down and help me._

While he waited for her, Derek started to untie the mattress and box spring from the roof, opening the trunk and grabbing the bag of electronics and the giant box with the metal frame for the bed. Cora appeared a minute later, looking surprised before she gave him an impressed smirk. "I was wondering when you'd get around to that."

"Shut up," Derek snapped, shoving as much as he could into her arms. He pulled the mattress down from atop the car, hauling it up with both hands. Werewolf superstrength could only go so far when the object to be lifted was just big enough that he couldn't get a decent hold on. 

"Where's Stiles?"

Cora followed after him, one hand carrying all of the electronics and the other holding into the metal frame. "Peter's room. They're watching Indiana Jones...well, I don't know if Peter is, but I think Stiles is."

"Okay. Let's get this set up before he notices and starts hovering."

"Oh man, _the hovering_ ," Cora echoed drolly, "it's like an M. Night Shyamalan movie or something." 

After everything was brought inside--with only one moment of Derek popping his head into Peter's room to firmly tell Stiles to stay put--he and Cora started to put the bed together. The frame was relatively simple, most of it clicking together and a few knobs screwing in on the ends. While Cora put the sheets on, Derek started pulling out everything from the electronics store. 

Halfway through trying to figure out how to hook everything up, Derek threw a handful of cord to the ground and sighed in frustration. No matter how many ports he plugged the DVD player into, the screen was still the same. Usually he just let Cora do all of the technical stuff, but she'd already scampered off back into her room after helping with the bed. 

Derek was about ready to call it quits and just wait until after Cora made dinner to seek out her help again when an idea struck him. He made his way to Peter's room, peering inside to see his freshly-bathed uncle sitting on his recliner and watching some show about yard pickers while Stiles folded some of the laundry from earlier that day.

"Hey, come help me with this," Derek said, internally cringing at how gruff he'd come across. Stiles got to his feet immediately, shuffling to Derek with a gaunt look about his face like he was awaiting punishment.

Derek tried not to acknowledge Stiles' anxiety, turning around and heading back to their shared room. Derek didn't even wait for Stiles to step in all the way before he gestured to the TV. "You're good with this stuff, right?"

Stiles hesitated, eyes widening at the array atop the bookshelf that sat between their beds. His focus drifted for a second, sliding over to take note of the new bed, complete with a frame and full sheets and a comforter. He remained silent, heartbeat quickening and breathing becoming shallow, like he didn't know how to process what he was seeing.

"I got you a bed too," Derek said helpfully. 

Hands shaking, Stiles shuffled towards the television, cautiously reaching out for it, turning it and assessing the cords. His lips were pursed tight, cheeks flushed on the highest points. Derek could see his fingers tremble from across the room as Stiles started to switch around the plugs before grabbing the remote to the television. Within minutes, the DVD player was programmed to the same remote and the opening credits to the first Lord of the Rings film was playing while Stiles took a step back and then redirected his gaze to the ground.

It wasn't exactly the reaction Derek was expecting, but it was better than nothing. He reached for the bluetooth headphones--still in the box--and approached Stiles. "You sleep better with the noise, right?"

Stiles' eyes flitted up to glance at Derek before darting away again as he nodded. Derek pushed the headphones against Stiles' chest until he tentatively circled his fingers around the box. "Use these, they hook up to the TV and to the radio I got. You can use them at night."

The knuckles of Stiles' fingers splashed white as he gripped to the box, heart thundering against his ribs in a way that made Derek's mental alarms go off. He wanted desperately to reach out and force Stiles' chin up, to see his face and try to understand what was going on in that head of his. Instead, Derek asked, "are you okay?"

Silently, gave Derek a furious nod, swallowing twice before he let his arms drop and shuffled into Derek's chest in what seemed like a hug that was too nervous to actually embrace him. 

"Thank you," the words sounded like they'd been punched right from Stiles' core, raw and weak, but so relieved that Derek's mind was reeling at the sound. 

After that first day, Stiles had never even uttered a word. Derek had started to wonder if it had been a fluke at all, but now that he knew Stiles could talk, he was determined to make it a regular occurrence. Derek brought his hands up to Stiles' shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. 

"It's no problem," he said, scrambling to think of a polite way to phrase his thoughts and failing miserably. "I honestly wasn't sure if you could talk."

Stiles ducked his head down until his voice was muffled in the space between their bodies. "M'not supposed to," he admitted quietly, chest and shoulders still heaving as he tried to calm himself down. Derek's chest tightened, and so did his hands on Stiles' shoulders as he ignored the desire to just crush Stiles into a protective embrace as his pack instinct started to take over. 

He brought one hand to Stiles' back instead, palm dragging down his spine in a comforting gesture. "Maybe you weren't before...but we'd like it if you talked. It would make things easier to understand. I'm sure Laura wouldn't mind at all."

Pulling away, Stiles lifted his head up, looking somewhere past Derek's ear for a second before looking directly at him and then down. His lips curled into a hesitant, small smile.

"Okay."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here, have a short, awkwardly written chapter because i'm extremely busy and have been out of sorts lately. but hey, something is better than nothing, right!?  
> beta'd by dereks-henley

“Derek,” Laura called softly, creaking open Derek’s bedroom door. Derek, despite being awake, tried desperately to appear asleep in hopes that she’d leave him be. Luck wasn’t on his side, because Laura just stepped into the room and knocked loudly on the door until Derek had no choice but to groggily lift his head from his pillow. 

“What?” 

Sparing a glance over to Stiles, who was curled up on his side with his headphones on and an infomercial playing on the television, Laura brandished a manila folder of paperwork. “Stiles has his appointment today at DCC. He’s supposed to go every week so I scheduled it for Saturdays so you don’t have to worry about class.”

Derek flopped his head back onto the pillow, sleepily murmuring, “mmkay,” to his sister as he began to drift off again. He jerked awake again when Laura swatted him on the head with the folder.

“Eleven o’clock!” she said sharply, letting Derek snatch the folder away and use it at a pillow, “don’t be late! You have to pick him up again at two, Derek.”

“Fine,” Derek groused, blearily looking at his phone and blinking at the time, “it’s like six in the morning right now.”

“I have to go to work,” Laura explained, “so I need you to take him.”

“Okay, bye,” Derek pulled the blanket up over his head, wriggling back into the warmth of his bed to try and catch a few more hours of sleep as Laura slipped out of the room.

It wasn’t until nearly eight that Derek finally rolled out of bed, shuffling to the bathroom to relieve himself before returning to wake Stiles up. Normally, Derek would let Stiles wake up on his own time, but since they had somewhere to be, he settled for jostling Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles’ eyes flickered open, lucid within seconds, and he sat up to look expectantly at Derek--the very center of his brows pinched in confusion. Derek waited until Stiles pulled his headphones out to talk.

“I’m supposed to take you to the DCC for an appointment today,” he stood, moving to his side of the room to find some clothes to wear for the day. “We have to be there by eleven, and Laura says I’m picking you up at two. Get ready.”

Stiles did as he was told, even going so far as to follow Derek into the kitchen to help him with breakfast. Derek had him whisk eggs in a bowl while he went about making oatmeal for Peter to eat before they left.

Derek knew Peter was awake, even though the lights were out in his room and he was prone in bed. Turning on the bedside lamp, Derek settled himself on the edge of the bed, reaching out and gently placing his palm against Peter’s arm. “Time to eat,” he said softly. Peter’s eyes slowly flickered open, landing on Derek as he blinked slowly.

“Where is the spark?” 

“I don’t know, here, have some oatmeal,” Derek set the food down on the bedside stand, reaching out in case Peter needed help to sit up. 

“It’s so bright, the spark,” Peter mumbled, letting Derek settle him against the headboard and taking the offered bowl of oatmeal. “So bright, it’s stolen all of my light.” 

“I’ll get it back for you,” Derek assured, even though he had no idea what Peter was saying. The doctors had explained long ago that sometimes Peter, despite being communicative, wouldn’t always say things that made sense. Peter had a habit of accusing others of stealing from him, usually Laura was the culprit, but sometimes Derek. 

“When are we going home?” 

“Soon, eat your breakfast and I’ll be back later,” Derek murmured, encouraging Peter to take the spoon up and feed himself. Peter scowled into his bowl for a long moment, but shakily began to eat. 

“Cora’s down the hall if you need anything,” Derek stood, leaning forward to press a kiss to the top of Peter’s disheveled hair. Peter didn’t acknowledge his words, instead focusing on chewing his mouthful. Derek grabbed the remote, flicking through the stations to the history channel and heading out to help Stiles with breakfast. 

Even though Stiles still wasn’t talking much, his face and body movements were starting to become more communicative--enough that Derek could move around him in the kitchen with relative ease.

After eating and giving Peter his breakfast, Derek put a note on the fridge for Cora and headed out the door with Stiles in tow. It wasn’t until he was on the highway that he finally tried to break Stiles’ silence.

“Did the headphones help?” 

Stiles shifted next to him, likely nodding, but Derek kept his eyes on the road. “Hm?”

“...yes, thank you,” Stiles murmured, voice crackling a little from a hoarse tiredness. Derek was hoping for more, but he was willing to take what he could get. It wasn’t like he was a shining example of chatter, anyway. 

“Put some music on,” he commanded. Stiles barely hesitated before he was pressing buttons on the console. They filtered through three different stations before Stiles figured out that Derek wasn’t going to tell him what kind of music to play, and so he settled on a classic rock station that was playing a song that Derek was familiar with, but couldn’t name off the top of his head.

Derek parked near the back of the lot at the DCC, the camaro safely tucked away in an empty corner where no other vehicles could possibly scratch it, and got out with the intention of leading Stiles into the facility. They’d barely made it to the front doors before an orderly met up with them, nodding to Derek and then gesturing at Stiles, who had practically tucked himself behind Derek.

“You don’t need to walk it up here. Next time just drop it off at the door and we’ll take care of the rest.”

Ignoring the part of him that tensed at the word ‘it’ being used to describe Stiles, Derek nodded, watching the orderly gesture to Stiles. Stiles shuffled around Derek, head down and feet dragging.

“Okay, I pick him up at two, right?”

“That’s correct.”

Stiles’ head was down, shoulders going from tense to lax the second that the orderlies hand curled around one of them. Derek’s goodbye caught in his throat and he swallowed, nodding and awkwardly forcing himself to walk back to his car. 

Instead of going home right away, Derek stopped at the store to grab some food. He lingered at the magazine and book section, eyes catching the cover of a graphic novel about zombies. Stiles had seemed interested in the last book, and that was enough for Derek to give in to his impulses and toss the book in his basket. Personally, Derek hated going to the doctor, so he could only imagine how Stile would feel after his three-hour appointment. 

By the time two o’clock rolled around, Derek had the car idling in the pick-up lane at the DCC (he hadn’t even been aware that one existed until he was directed there by one of the valets). Stiles was led out by a different orderly this time, his feet shuff-shuffing across the concrete walkway and his arms hanging limply at his sides. He was practically manhandled into the car without so much as a ‘hello’ to Derek, gaze distant. 

Derek buckled him in, teeth grinding, and pulled the comic out from the bag sitting in the back seat. “I got you this,” he said, holding it out. Stiles took the book, letting it drop into his lap and then turning to look out the window.

Even though Stiles’ behavior was unsettling, Derek tried to reason with himself that it was just his way of adjusting to whatever training they were putting him through to control his powers now that he was out of the facility. Another part of Derek wanted to ask what kind of training left someone acting almost vegetative, but he was too afraid to consider the possibilities.

Stiles wasn’t much better when they got back to the apartment. All he did was follow Derek around with the comic clutched in his hands and his eyes unwilling to make any semblance of contact. Cora had gotten irritated at one point, barking at him to go somewhere else when he’d spent too much time trailing after her while she was looking around the apartment for her headphones. It wasn’t until Derek caught him hovering next to the couch that he snapped. 

“You can sit down if you want, you don’t need to ask permission.”

Eyes flickering up to Derek’s for a split second, Stiles sat on the very far corner of the couch. 

“Read your book.”

Stiles opened the cover, glancing between the comic and Derek a few times and then finally settling down enough to engross himself in the pages on his lap. After a while, Derek got up to get something to eat for a snack and Stiles followed him. 

Derek made him eat an entire sandwich just to try and get that sad, distant look off of his face. 

It took another hour before Stiles finally left Derek’s side to grab Peter’s laundry from the dryer. He returned with the basket in his arms, setting it on the coffee table, leaving plenty of room for Derek’s books. Derek watched him hesitate for a long minute before he finally sat down and started to fold and sort through Peter’s things.

Cora finally emerged from her room to make dinner, going so far as to point at Stiles when he tried to get up and snapping, “stay!” in a manner that had Stiles freezing in place and Derek coughing on a laugh of surprise. 

The first thing Laura did as soon as she came in the door was to give an exaggerated sniff and appreciative sound, walking into the kitchen to see what Cora was making. She instantly went about grabbing plates to set the table, calling out to Derek.

“How was his appointment?”

Unsure if he should tell Laura about the fact that Stiles had been acting off all day after his appointment, Derek shrugged and said, “Don’t know, they just had me drop him off and pick him up.”

“Oh, really?” Laura frowned, glancing to where Stiles was studiously folding Peter’s underwear like he couldn’t hear a thing they were saying. She frowned, “Stiles, how was your appointment?”

Stiles froze, slowly looking up in Laura’s general direction. Derek could practically hear him swallow down his own voice, eyes darting between Laura and Derek. 

“Well?” Laura prompted.

With extreme reluctance, Stiles murmured, “good,” and hurriedly resumed stacking Peter’s underwear back into the basket. Laura seemed satisfied that Stiles had answered at all, walking over and grabbing some of the folded clothes to take into Peter’s room.

“I’m glad,” she said, more sincerely than Derek had been expecting. Part of him wondered if Stiles was even telling the truth, or if his idea of ‘good’ was just skewed enough that his heart hadn’t blipped at all. Laura paused to brush her hands through Derek’s hair affectionately before heading for Peter’s room, with a soft, “dinner’s almost ready.”

After everyone had polished off their plates, Stiles made his way around the table to collect the dirty dishes. When he reached Laura, her hand came out to gently press against his wrist like she always did with the rest of her pack. Stiles froze, flinching back and almost dropping the glass in his hand. He seemed to realize what he’d done because he quickly ducked his head and shuffled into the kitchen without a single word. 

Derek could only take so much, especially when he knew Stiles could talk and touch when he really wanted to. He stood, heading into the kitchen and watching Stiles putter around with putting things in the dishwasher.

“You know you’re allowed to talk, right?”

Freezing, Stiles curled his shoulders inward just the tiniest bit--a habit Derek had noticed happened when Stiles was nervous--and then nodded.

“So why don’t you?” Derek pressed on, walking forward until he was standing right next to Stiles. Instead of allowing Derek to establish eye contact, Stiles shrugged and ducked his head further down. It did nothing but make Derek want to try harder, and he crossed his arms with a scowl. “Are you unhappy here?”

Stiles shook his head, clutching to a dripping wet bowl and then tapping his fingers nervously on it before placing it in the dishwasher. It was better than no answer at all, and if Derek had to rely on nods and shakes to get his answers, he’d take it. 

“Did the headphones really help?”

Nod.

“You sleep better with the noise, right?”

A pause, and another nod.

“Has it always been like that?”

“No,” Stiles admitted quietly, and Derek had to hold his breath for a second not to react to hearing his voice. 

He masked the pleased feeling in his gut with another question. “Is there anything you need? We get money every month to take care of you. If you need something, let me know.” Derek reached out, gently settling his hand on Stiles’ shoulder and giving what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze.

When Stiles only nodded, Derek pulled back to walk away. He’d barely taken a step when Stiles softly said, “socks.”

It was enough for Derek to turn around again, watching Stiles force himself to look up, lip shaking like it was stressful for him to even utter the words, “a b-bigger blanket?”

Derek watched Stiles for a long moment, taking in the way he always seemed to curl in on himself, and how he always had a habit of burrowing into the couch whenever possible. They kept the house at a pretty low temperature since werewolves ran hot, but Derek never thought to ask Stiles if he ran as warm as they did. “Are you cold?” Derek reached out, hesitating only for a moment before pressing his fingers against the back of Stiles’ hand and frowning when he realized the skin was cold to the touch. 

Unmoving, Stiles stared at where Derek was touching him, his breathing slow and even. 

“I’ll get you some stuff to keep you warm,” Derek promised, pulling his hand back and trying not to feel like a complete ass for, once again, failing at his responsibility as Laura’s second to oversee their pack members. Derek was pretty positive that CPS would have already taken him away if Stiles was an actual child.

Stiles glanced up at Derek, the corners of his lips pulling into a small smile. “Thanks.”

Derek returned the smile, clapping Stiles’ shoulder gently. “Don’t mention it,” he pulled away, heading for the hall closet. It took him a minute to root around, grunting under an avalanche of Cora’s winter clothes, and wrenched out an old comforter that was once Laura’s. It was soft, a creamy white color with pastel pink and blue flowers dotting the surface, filled with thick, downy stuffing. Derek set it aside, putting everything back away into the closet and then carrying the quilt into the living room. Stiles was squished in between Laura and Cora, looking uncomfortable like they had manhandled him into the center. 

“Stand up,” Derek said, watching Stiles practically jump to his feet. He shook the comforter out, throwing it around Stiles’ shoulders and swaddling it tightly until Stiles finally brought his hands up to hold the quilt around himself. His eyes were wide, flicking from Derek, to the blanket, and back again.

Laura was staring at Derek like he’d gone crazy, so Derek said helpfully, “the thermostat is set to sixty.”

“Okay? Oh--” Laura cringed, “ohh. Shit, sorry, Stiles.”

Stiles, with half of his face hidden in the comforter, hurriedly said, “it’s okay,” in a small, muffled voice. He shuffled back, struggling to see where he was going until Cora finally reached out and pulled him down in between herself and Laura. Derek wanted to laugh at how comical Stiles looked--like a giant flowery marshmallow squished in the middle of two werewolves. He nodded, clenching his teeth a little to hide the smile threatening to break out on his lips, and turned on his heel to head into his room and get some more of his essay done. 

He couldn’t help but notice how Stiles’ belongings were on the floor next to his bed, and that Derek basically took up more than half of the room. He turned right back around, returning to the hall closet and digging around until he found a mostly-empty box. He dumped all of the contents into another box, taking it into his room and to his night stand. Sweeping everything on it into the box, Derek made sure the entire night stand was empty before pushing it over to sit next to Stiles bed. He took all of his books off of the second tier on the bookshelf, shifting things around until there were two shelves emptied. 

“What are you doing?” Cora asked from the doorway, leaning against the frame. Derek grunted, moving to his closet to try and organize it a little so that there was at least a little corner for Stiles.

“Making room for Stiles’ things, he doesn’t have any stuff right now, but he might later.”

Cora stayed for a minute longer before leaving without a word. Derek was almost done shoving everything in his closet to one side when she came back with a small treasure box Derek recognized as one she’d made in high school. He’d never actually seen her use it, and apparently she didn’t plan on doing so because she set it down on Stiles’ night stand. It was big for a trinket box--half a foot wide and half as tall. The top was covered in a painting of a giraffe that showcased Cora’s inability to draw.

“What’s he supposed to put in that?” Derek asked.

Cora looked at it thoughtfully, humming under her breath and then reaching in her pocket. She dug out a handful of change, tossing it into the trinket box. “Let him keep some of the spare change? Oh--” Cora slipped out of the room, coming back a few minutes later with her old mp3 player, the one she’d stopped using after the screen had cracked. “You said he can’t sleep without noise, right? There’s a bunch of meditation music on that thing, if, like, he wants to nap on the couch or if you’re using the TV. I’ll ask Laura if she wants to give him anything.”

A tiny noise came from the doorway and they both looked to see Stiles standing there, blanket still swathed around him and his eyes wide in disbelief. Cora set the mp3 player down in the trinket box and Stiles’ throat visibly bobbed as he swallowed convulsively. 

“I wasn’t using it anyway,” Cora shrugged, “the screen doesn’t work, anyway.”

The comforter slid down the sides of Stiles’ arms, his hands wringing together and his breath coming in short bursts. It took him a few tries before he managed to find his voice, croaking out, “for me?” like it hurt to say the words.

Derek tried to remain nonchalant, shrugging, “Yeah, all for you. I--uh--made you a shelf too, for your book...and other books later if you want any.”

“More books?” Stiles’ voice pitched higher at the end, a grin spreading across his face. Laura appeared behind him, looking around in confusion and frowning.

“What’s going on?”

“Hey, did you wanna give Stiles a pack welcoming gift?” Cora piped up, throwing an arm around Derek’s shoulder and squeezing it. Derek almost shrugged her hand off but contained himself at the last moment, instead crossing his arms to keep from looking too cozy.

After a beat, Laura squinted and then shrugged, “Sure?” before disappearing out of the room.

Stiles shuffled forward until he reached the night stand, fingers brushing over the trinket box and his smile growing a little at the sight of Cora’s lopsided giraffe on the top of it. He opened the drawers of the night stand, tossing his blanket onto the bed so that he could pick up his clothes from the floor and put them away in the top drawer.

Laura reappeared, holding a hideous fluffy white leopard print bathrobe that Derek had been certain she’d tossed out. He choked on a laugh, trying desperately to disguise it as a cough when Stiles stared at the object in her arms. Laura’s face was red as she mumbled, “uh... it’s warm. I got it from a coworker for last year’s Secret Santa.” She looked so uncomfortable that Derek almost wanted to take pity on her. She was never one for gift giving, which was why she usually just went for money or gift cards during the holidays. 

Reaching out to take the robe, Stiles gave Laura a shy grin, nervously peering up at her and muttering, “I like it, it’s fierce.” 

Derek forgot how to speak entirely, heart clenching in his chest at that hidden snark inside of Stiles that he’d never before witnessed. Cora jostled his shoulder, as if to silently agree with Derek’s surprise. Stiles slipped the robe on, pushing the sleeves up to his elbows and making little claws with his fingers like he was a jungle cat.

Laura chuckled, reaching out to rustle his hair. There was a lot about Stiles that none of them knew, and if this was how he acted within just a handful of days in their home, Derek couldn’t wait to see how he would change in the months to come.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY AND NOW THE STORY IS GONNA PICK UP AFTER THIS CHAPTER! :D  
> chapter beta'd by dream-tempo

Even though it had only been a handful of weeks since Stiles had come into their household, to Derek, it felt like months and months had passed when he thought about how much had changed since the day he and his sister had walked through the doors of the DCC. Stiles was still distant at times--especially after his appointments-- but there was more life in his eyes, more energy in his smiles and in the way he let Laura and the others establish contact. If Laura were to ask Derek again if she should have left Stiles at the DCC, Derek wouldn’t hesitate to tell her that taking him was one of the best decisions they could have made.

They were at the grocery store, and Stiles was not-so-subtly putting things in the cart for himself, glancing up every so often to see if Derek would stop him. Derek didn’t, instead reaching out at one point and tossing a second bag of chips in next to Stiles’, looking up and making sure to lock eyes with Stiles. Stiles froze, and then he shrugged sheepishly and muttered, “they’re good, aren’t they?”

“Better with dip,” Derek answered, pushing the cart around the corner and then heading for the bathroom. He’d gone jogging earlier and the two water bottles that he’d chugged were starting to catch up. Stiles kept a hand on the side of the cart, letting himself be led along until Derek parked it in front of the restrooms.

“Guard the cart,” he said, glancing up and feeling a coil of accomplishment at Stiles’ amused smirk before heading into the bathroom. It was less than five minutes before he was back out again, heart skipping at the sight of Stiles crowded against the cart by a group of teens around Stiles’ age. They were further away than Derek remembered setting the cart, and he was pretty sure that it was because Stiles had probably tried to make an escape before he could be targeted.

“A godamn killer, that’s what you are,” one spat, reaching out and swatting Stiles’ face in a light slap, “not yet, but you will eventually. Should just put all of you in front of a firing squad and be done with it,” the boy put his index finger against Stiles’ forehead like a gun and Derek was moving before he could think about it. The teen shoved Stiles harshly, making him stumble back over the cart and fall into a display. Derek was there in a heartbeat, ignoring the laughter from the boys as they pointed fingers and shouted words like, “fucking idiot,” and “stupid monster,” to a point where one of the managers was making his way over with an incensed look on his face. He was a large man, with broad shoulders and a broader belly, dressed in a pale blue button-down with a nametag that let everyone know he was Joseph the Manager. 

Instead of addressing the teens, the man completely bypassed Derek kneeling there with a hand on Stiles’ arm, to grab Stiles by hooking on his collar and dragging him to his feet. “What do you think you’re doing, breaking things in my store?” he gave Stiles such a shake that Derek could see the moment that he shut down, body going limp like a ragdoll and his focus clouding over. Any and all shock that had kept Derek paralyzed was gone as he snarled, shifting into his beta form to grip the manager’s shoulder and shove him and Stiles apart.

The manager stumbled back, but Derek was too busy crowding Stiles behind himself protectively. He flashed his eyes a bright, icy blue and snarled again, making sure to bare his teeth at both the teens and the manager. He knew it was probably overkill, but if there was one thing humans were notorious for, it was tiptoeing about werewolves and their pack. Stiles, for all that he was new to their small family, was already in the process of becoming pack. All he had to do was posture a little (which wasn’t hard, considering how badly he wanted to rip them to pieces for touching Stiles) and it had the entire group of teenage boys scurrying off.

Face pale, the manager fumbled over his words to try and apologize, “I’m sorry sir, your druid--it’s just policy for anyone who breaks store property and--”

“There’s no way he was responsible for breaking that display,” Derek snarled, letting his fangs sink back in so that it would be easier for him to talk. “You saw them harassing him, and if you knew anything about druids being fostered, you’d know they’re practically children. They’ve been _conditioned_ that way. Does he _look_ harmful to you?” Derek threw his arm out, gesturing to Stiles, who was almost pressed up against Derek’s back like he could hide himself in the broadness of the man's shoulders.

“N-no, sir, that is-- I mean, it’s possible--”

“ _Are you calling me a liar?_ ” Derek barked, “do I need to bring this to corporate?”

“No! Of course not! I was trying to say that it’s... it’s possible that I could ring up your purchases for the day at no cost, as an apology for all of the trouble that’s been caused.” His face was turning red, making his pale blonde hair seem pink with how hot he was getting under the collar. 

Derek relaxed his shoulders, lip pursing and jaw clenching as he replied, “sounds fair.” He turned, settling a hand on Stiles’ elbow and gesturing for him to grab the cart. Stiles took a second to respond, blinking owlishly up at him before he nodded and went to get their things. Derek no longer felt like getting everything else on their shopping list, Laura could do it later when she got off work. Instead, they followed the manager towards the check-out with Derek pushing the cart and Stiles keeping one palm resting against the handle next to him.

For some reason, contact was a good way to keep Stiles from withdrawing too much into himself, which was why Derek didn’t bother to restrain himself from smearing his scent all over Stiles in any place that had been marked by strangers. Each touch had Stiles’ muscles relaxing and Derek’s nerves calming.

It wasn’t until they got into the car that Derek finally addressed him, hands curled tightly around the steering wheel and his eyes focused on the road. He could hear the creak of leather every time Stiles shifted uncomfortably, the hum of the air conditioner being the only other sound in the car.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, “you didn’t deserve to go through that.”

Stiles turned to look at him, lips pursed and brows furrowed. He didn’t say anything, so Derek added, “If you want to stay home next time, I understand... I just thought you could get out for a little bit.”

“I liked it,” Stiles murmured quietly, fussing with a bit of fray on the hem of his blue and gray striped shirt and tugging the thread out, “thank you.” 

Though part of Derek was screaming to point out that Stiles didn’t need to be thankful for being treated like a human being, all he did was reach out and press his palm firmly against Stiles’ forearm. He gave a gentle, reassuring squeeze like Laura often did when she was trying to establish pack contact and then pulled back to settle his hand on the gear shift. After a long moment, Stiles reached out his hand, resting it over the back of Derek’s, awkwardly trying to mimic the same affectionate squeeze he’d been given.

It didn’t seem like much, but to Derek it felt like a milestone of progress.

\--

After putting all of the groceries away with Derek, Stiles headed into Peter’s room with a box of crackers and a movie from the shelf by the entertainment center. Derek let them be, getting himself a snack from the cabinet and settling lengthwise along the couch. He kicked his shoes off, letting them thud to the floor from the arm of the couch where he had his feet hanging off. Laura would probably complain later about how the carpet was practically white and that Derek was the reason they wouldn’t get the safety deposit back, but the guilt wasn’t enough to make him get up and put his shoes back by the entry. He reached for the remote control, flipping through until he found a documentary on the history channel. 

A while later, as the narrator was going on about war generals and body counts, Stiles came out of Peter’s room with a handful of spoons and a confused frown on his face. It took Derek a second to figure out that Stiles had probably found them hidden in various nooks and crannies in Peter’s room, and couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. “Found his stash?”

Stiles’ frown melted away, a smile coming to his lips as he shrugged and put them in the dishwasher before returning to Peter’s room. Laura stumbled in the door near the end of the documentary flopping on top of Derek and resting her head on his chest with a sigh. Her dark hair splayed out across his shirt and arm, tickling at his throat. Derek brought a hand up to run it through her hair, fingers detangling any snarls they came across, letting her bury her face against his shoulder and breathe in the scent of pack. 

“Long day?”

“You have no idea,” she groaned, squirming a little so she could see the television but still be comfortable. Derek grunted when her elbow managed to jab into his liver, shifting his legs and letting himself be used as a giant pillow. There was a long pause and she muttered, “a kid killed himself today,” she murmured, “he was thirteen... and just diagnosed as a druid.”

Derek’s fingers paused before he tampered down on the urge to ask questions and kept stroking her hair. 

Laura sniffled, sighing. “His parents found him hanging in his room... he... he was just a kid.”

“That’s not how some people see it.” Derek pointed out gently, shrugging. 

“That could have been _him_ ,” Laura said desperately, “he was like sixteen when they took him, wasn’t he?”

“Fifteen, I think.”

“Fifteen!” Laura cried, “he was just a baby!” Turning, Laura buried her face into Derek’s chest with a miserable groan. 

Stiles came out of Peter’s room, waving at Laura on his way to the book shelf and completely oblivious to the conversation that had been taking place. Derek had caught him reading to Peter a few times, but his voice was always soft and uneasy when he read, like his anxiety almost won out over his dedication to making Laura happy. 

“Hello, Stiles,” Laura called out, obviously wanting to acknowledge him more than ever in light of recent revelations. Stiles hesitated by the bookshelf, hand halfway to brushing over the spines.

“Hello,” he murmured quietly.

“Hello, what?” Laura prompted, determined. Derek continued to stroke his hand over her head, watching Stiles pull a book from the shelf and then turn to face them, eyes cast upon the ground.

“Hello…master…?” 

Laura let out a pained sigh, groaning and shoving her face into Derek’s chest again. “He’s still just a baby,” she whispered.

Derek almost grinned, but then caught sight of the uneasy look of apprehension on Stiles’ face. He quickly said, “I think she just wants you to call her Laura.”

Stiles made a pained face, like it was going against his very wiring to address his caretaker by their given name. “Hello, Laura.”

Instead of answering, Laura made a satisfied sound and snuggled into her little brother’s side. ”Much better.”

Stiles turned to Derek, frowning a little and waiting for Derek to tell him if he’d done well or not. He looked a lot healthier than he had when they’d first taken him in. His skin was warmer, cheeks and shoulders fuller in that way that meant he was being fed well. Derek just grinned, “hello, Stiles.” 

“…hello, Derek.” Stiles shifted on his feet, eyes darting to the shelf and back to Derek and Laura.

“Are you getting a book for Peter?”

Stiles looked at the book in his hand and then to Derek, squinting just the tiniest bit at him and pursing his lips like he was deciding if Derek was an idiot or not. He realized what he was doing soon enough, schooling his face from his disgruntled expression and nodding. “Yes.”

Derek wriggled his way out from under Laura, ignoring her noise of protest and then making his way over to the shelf. He brushed his hand over Stiles’ shoulders, letting Stiles take a second to relax before giving them a rub and then pulling a different book off the shelf that was pale green and worn at the edges. After all of the drama at the grocery store and hearing Laura’s story, there was a part of Derek that just wanted Stiles to feel safe in their house like a real packmate would. “This one is Peter’s favorite.”

Bringing a hand up to gingerly take the book from Derek, Stiles nodded curtly, “okay,” and biting back a grin when Derek ruffled his hair. 

“Don’t forget to let us know if you need anything, all right?”

“ _Anything,_ ” Laura emphasized from the couch. Stiles glanced between the two of them, a thoughtful look in his eyes as he headed back into Peter’s room.

\--

Derek didn’t think anything would come from their offer, just that Stiles might ask for things more, or maybe take initiative when it came to issues like eating if he was hungry or taking a shower instead of waiting for Derek or one of the others to give him permission. 

After that day, Stiles began to spend hours fidgeting, pacing and giving off wave after wave of anxiety until Derek finally snapped on Friday afternoon. He slammed his laptop shut, looking up to where Stiles was hovering nearby, shifting his weight and holding his palms together while his thumbs rubbed nervously together. 

“Stiles, is there something you’ve been trying to ask?” Derek demanded, “you know you can ask anything, right? We’re not going to hurt you for it.”

“Can I call my dad?” Stiles blurted, hands jerking afterwards like he had to stop himself from covering his mouth. It was the last thing Derek expected him to ask, and from the sound of Laura fumbling with her spatula in the kitchen, he wasn’t the only one taken aback. Stiles didn’t handle the silence well, sucking in a half-breath and faltering before he dragged in a deeper one and ducked his head.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. It was out of place--forgive me--”

“No,” Laura said sharply. Stiles flinched, curling his shoulders up and trying to hide further inside of himself. Laura was quick to continue, “no, it wasn’t out of place. You can call your dad, Stiles, _it’s okay_.”

“When’s the last time you talked to him?” Derek asked, frowning when a thought struck him, “you’ve been with us for months...”

“Almost four years,” Stiles admitted, his voice small. Laura actually dropped the spatula this time, sending scrambled eggs flying as she let out a loud curse that had Stiles jerking and his heart kicking up a notch.

Derek sat up, his heart having fallen somewhere in his gut, “Why do you want to talk to him now?” It was the only question Derek would allow himself to ask, holding back a hundred others like _‘did he turn you in? what about your mom? does your dad even know where you are?’_

During the exchange, Cora appeared, having heard the conversation from her room. She was frowning, glancing from Stiles to her siblings. Stiles swallowed, giving himself a moment to gather the right words, and then admitted, “I miss him. I just...I really miss him.”

“Why didn’t you call him before?” Cora asked.

Peering up at Cora, Stiles shrugged and ducked his head again. “Not allowed,” he mumbled. Derek was wrenching his phone out of his pocket in a heartbeat. He never wanted to hear about Stiles being told he couldn’t call his family--never again.

“Do you need me to look his number up?” Derek handed the phone over and Stiles shook his head, reaching out and then freezing just before he had Derek’s cell in his hands. Derek wiggled the phone, wanting Stiles to take it, and Stiles gingerly wrapped his fingers around the phone and practically hugged the device to his chest. 

After a second, Stiles glanced around and then down at the phone in his hand. 

It was Laura who broke the silence, clearing her throat from the kitchen. “Go on up to your room. You’re allowed to have privacy.” 

Stiles shuffled quickly out of the room, his feet picking up almost halfway to the room as he scurried into a jog and then gently, painfully gently, shut the door. Derek heard the sound of the phone dialing, of Stiles’ heartbeat fluttering rapidly when it started to ring. He and his sisters remained quiet when someone picked up on the other line with a sharp, “Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department, how can I help you?”

Derek glanced over to Laura, one eyebrow quirking curiously as Stiles shakily asked, “May I talk to Sheriff Stilinski, please?”

“One moment,” answered the receptionist, putting him on hold. Cora settled onto the couch next to Derek, eyes focused blankly at the wall so she could focus on the phone conversation. Derek felt a little guilty for eavesdropping, but his curiosity won out the second that the line was picked up by a tired sounding man.

“Stilinski speaking.”

Stiles’ voice cracked when he quietly said, “d-dad?” in such a broken, hopeful tone that Laura was breathing out a curse and scrubbing at her face. 

The man on the other line was quiet for barely a second before he was talking. “Stiles? Stiles, is that you?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Stiles, Jesus Christ--”

“I miss you,” Stiles blurted, “I miss you so much, dad.”

“I miss you too, son. I love you so much--how are you? _Where_ are you? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” The questions were rapid-fire, like Stiles’ father didn’t know which one to ask first, so he just went with all of them at once. Stiles’ heart was fluttering in his chest, a fast beat that had Derek curling his hands into fists to keep from going in there to try and calm him down.

“I’m okay,” Stiles assured, breathing heavily, “I’m okay--I’m with a family now. They’re... they’re good. Better. It’s good, I promise,” he sniffled wetly, “I love you too--how are you? How is Scott? Melissa?” 

“Good, they miss you, but they’re good.” Stiles’ father assured, “I’m okay, too. I’d be better if you were here--”

“Dad,” Stiles’ voice broke, sniffling again, “Dad, I _can’t_. Please don’t hate me,” he pleaded, “I can’t. I want to and I can’t.”

“We can’t,” Laura said, clearing her throat and staring down at her plate of food. She clenched her jaw, shaking her head furiously. “ _We_ can’t.”

“I know,” Derek stood, “I know you’d let him go if you could,” he sat down next to his sister, throwing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into a hug.

Cora approached the table, scowling. “We’ll take care of him,” she promised. “We can’t take him home but we can take care of him.” 

“Can you turn the TV up?” Laura asked, “I don’t want to hear any more.”

Standing, Derek got up and made his way over to the television, cranking up the volume until he could barely hear the steady mumble of Stiles’ voice. 

When Stiles came down nearly an hour later, his face was flushed with joy, eyes bright and warm as he handed the phone back to Derek. “Thank you,” he breathed, “thank you so much.”

Derek took the phone back, shaking his head, “you can use it any time you want, just ask.” 

Stiles chewed down on the inside of his cheek, contemplative for a minute, and then nodded before his lips split into a giant grin that seemed to take up half of his face. Derek felt his gut clench, twisting with a thousand emotions he couldn’t name, and he reached out to drag Stiles into a much-needed hug.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a while, huh?  
> beta'd by freenickel and innerdialogue. they are fab, check 'em out!

Saturday morning started with Derek and Stiles groggily leaning against the kitchen counter, both of them nursing a steaming mug of coffee. Stiles was reserved, eyes downcast, while Derek struggled to wake himself up enough to drive them to the DCC. The trip there was just as quiet, with much of Stiles’ attention further away than the leather passenger seat of the Camaro. After Stiles was whisked away by the staff of the DCC, Derek headed back home, mind heavy with thoughts of the night before. 

He wanted to get in contact with Stiles’ father. The DCC had not mentioned anything about contacting a druid’s family, and it seemed like a part of Stiles’ soul had been restored to him after contacting his father. It made Derek crave more, wanting to somehow chip away at that barricade hiding who Stiles had once been. 

Sitting on the couch, the news running quietly in the background, Derek pulled up the contact history on his phone. He typed in the number Stiles had called yesterday into his search engine. Derek hated the feeling of his gut twisting when the first result was for a police station somewhere in the middle of California.

Derek’s mind whirled, struggling to process what chain of events had caused Stiles to end up clear across the country, and why he’d been taken so far from home. Derek had barely been able to handle moving his entire life when he was sixteen, and he had his sisters and uncle there the whole time. Derek had no idea what it must have been like for a fifteen year old Stiles to be usurped from his home and put into a facility that was starting to seem more like a prison than a supposed ‘rehabilitation’ center.

Derek was dialing the number before he could really think about what he was doing. A receptionist picked up on the second ring, and Derek stumbled over the words. “Can I talk to Sheriff Stilinski?”

“One moment, please.”

There was a long pause as he was put on hold before a man answered. “This is Stilinski.”

“This is Derek Hale,” Derek blurted, sitting up on the couch, barely giving himself time to think about his words before they were coming out of his mouth. “My family is the one who adopted your son,” he cringed, wishing a better word than ‘adopted’ had come to mind. The phone crackled with silence, the man on the other line obviously stunned. Derek plowed on, “I wanted to give you my number.”

“Why?” Stiles’ father asked hoarsely, sounding cautious.

“I...” Derek trailed off, struggling to find the right words. “We took him in to help our uncle. He’s like pack... we just want him happy.”

“Bring him home, then,” Stilinski barked sharply, but Derek could tell even by his tone of voice that he wasn’t actually expecting Derek to comply. He sounded desperate and frustrated all at once.

Derek’s throat felt like it was about to close up at any minute, guilt like a suffocating vice around his voice box. “I can’t,” he murmured. “Believe me, if I could I would bring him to you right now.”

“But...?”

“But the DCC makes him check in every week. We can’t release him from our care, and the only way to get him to you would be for all of us to move across the country. Even then, that would be almost impossible, and the paperwork alone could take months or even years to process. They have all of our information on file. You’re law enforcement, right?”

“Right,” Stiles’ father answered cautiously. Derek was pretty sure that if he was talking to the man in person, he’d probably have a gun pointed at his head.

“Then you should know that it’s a felony to violate any of those rules”.

“So you value your criminal record over my son’s life?” Accusation was heavy in the Sheriff’s tone. Derek drew in an uneasy breath, letting it out through his nose.

“Yes. I have a family and a pack to look after.”

There was sudden quiet on the other line and then Stiles’ father asked, “Are you an alpha?”

“I’m second.”

Stiles’ dad took a moment to process, finally sighing and muttering, “I’m sorry, I just--”

“Come see him,” Derek blurted, part of him instinctively screaming that he should be consulting with his alpha before making such an offer. Another part of him, however, was confident that he was making the right choice. For a long moment, there was silence on the other line, and then the man spoke.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Positive. When he’s with us, he’s pack. His family is our family.”

After a sharp inhale, Stiles’ father could be heard rustling through papers for a moment before he cleared his throat. “I could come as soon as next week,” he said, “and I need to tell his pack.” 

Something in Derek tightened a little at hearing the man refer to strangers as Stiles’ pack. He pushed the feeling away, instead pursing his lips. “I can’t guarantee they can come until I talk to my alpha,” he said firmly. 

“Understandable,” Sheriff agreed, “However, I’d like to point out that there’s only two of them. Until then, can we exchange numbers? What’s your name again? Can I get your address too? You do know I’m going to need to run a background check on you and your pack.” Though there was a curl of humor in the man’s voice, Derek knew he was entirely serious. 

“I have two traffic violations,” Derek confessed light-heartedly, though he was pretty sure his voice came out a little rougher than normal. 

Sheriff was silent, and then he huffed out a laugh. “Hope that’s all you’ve got, kid,” he said, pen clicking in the background. Derek took that as his cue to recite his number and address, and that Laura was his alpha. He copied down the number that Stiles’ father gave to him afterwards, typing it directly into his phone and saving the number as “Stiles’ Dad” . He had to assure Stilinski a second and third time that Stiles would call him as soon as he was able before he could hang up, but he didn’t blame the man.

-

The only problem was that when Derek picked Stiles up from the DCC, Stiles didn’t seem to even want to formulate words, let alone call his dad. He shuffled out of the office, hovering by Derek’s side with a distant, blank look on his face.

“What’s wrong with him?” Derek demanded to the receptionist. She looked up from her computer, glancing over to Stiles and then back to Derek.

“There’s sometimes an adjustment period after a particularly intense training session,” she said dismissively. The orderly who brought him to the front ignored Derek’s question entirely, turning on his heel and disappearing into the back again.

Derek sighed, reaching out for Stiles and hesitating when there was no reaction, other than Stiles tensing up just the tiniest bit. He gently curled his fingers around Stiles’ elbow, feeling the jump of his pulse, and led Stiles out towards the car. Stiles struggled a little with his seatbelt, fingertips shaking when the buckle continued to slip out of his hand. Derek finally leaned over, trying to ignore how Stiles flinched back, and snapped his seatbelt shut for him.

Stiles’ breathing was labored, eyes flicking up to glance at Derek for a second before they darted away and out the window. Derek watched him for a moment, sighing and pulling out of the parking lot when Stiles still refused to look back at him or even talk to him.

They were halfway home when Derek asked, “Do you want to talk to your dad?”

From the corner of his eye, Derek watched Stiles’ face tick before he shook his head slowly. Derek didn’t push, reaching to turn up the radio instead. He felt uncomfortable, like he was itching in his own skin, voice struggling to hold back a thousand questions. Stiles had been so happy to talk to his dad before, and the only thing that had changed was Stiles’ appointment. 

Derek waited until they were home, and Stiles was making lunch, to approach the subject again. 

“You want to call your dad?” 

Stiles hesitated, knife hovering above Derek’s sandwich, before he schooled his face and gave his head a slight shake, cutting the sandwich in half. Derek pretended he hadn’t seen the action, pouring two glasses of water. “You can call him after lunch, if you want.”

Setting Derek’s plate on the table, Stiles refused to lift his head. He did, however, mutter, “no,” quietly and then headed back to make his own food. 

“Why not?” Derek urged, following Stiles into the kitchen and hovering by the entry. Stiles’ hands shook, fingers slipping on the package of cheese for a moment before he calmly set it down and turned to face Derek, eyes downcast.

“May I take a shower?” he asked hoarsely, wiping his palms along the sides of his shirt like he was trying to get rid of a clammy sweat. Derek wanted to protest, to demand that Stiles sit down and tell him what was really bothering him, but Derek knew that would end up going nowhere. He sighed, nodding and stepping out of the way so that Stiles could stiffly walk past him and head down the hallway, disappearing into the bathroom a few moments later. 

Derek didn’t bring it up again until the next day, and only because Stiles’ father had shot him a text asking if Stiles would be able to call him before he had to head into work. 

He read over the message twice before heading into Peter’s room to see Stiles sitting amidst a pile of clothes, not folding any of them and instead watching a foreign action movie with poor voice-overs. He shoved his cell phone into Stiles’ face. “Call your dad,” Derek said stiffly, scowling at the blank stare he was given in return. “He’s in my contacts now, for future reference.” 

Just to prove a point, Derek opened up his contacts list, scrolling until he reached ‘Stiles’ Dad’ and showed it to Stiles once more. When Stiles didn’t take the phone right away, Derek put more authority into his voice than he probably should have, barking, “call him,” in such a tone that Stiles hurriedly took the phone. He shakily hit send, to dial the number, and brought the phone to his ear, remaining silent even after the other line picked up.

“Hello? Is this Derek?”

Stiles let out a soft huff of a breath and that was apparently enough for his father.

“Stiles, then. It’s good to hear from you. I told Scott and the others. He’s got a girlfriend now, they go to CSU together. I went to the doctor a few months back and they put me on a diet for my blood pressure. It’s complete bullcrap, but Melissa McCall has taken it upon herself to make sure I’m following it. You’d be proud of her.”

Instead of responding, Stiles simply brought his other hand up, like the phone was so heavy he couldn’t hold it without effort. Stiles’ father drew a shaking breath, voice wavering when he uttered, “I miss you so much, son. I already lost your mother, I’m so glad I haven’t lost you too...”

“Derek got me headphones,” Stiles muttered suddenly, throat hitching as he struggled to talk. “Laura gave me a robe. It’s ugly, but I told her I liked it.” 

Derek might have been able to stop himself from laughing, but he had to duck his head down to smother the grin that he couldn’t stop from spreading across his face. On the other end of the line, Stiles’ father was chuckling. 

“Sounds like an interesting pack you’ve found.”

“They found _me_ ,” Stiles corrected, one hand sliding to rub at the back of his neck as he glanced up to Derek and then back at the floor. “They found me, and I’m really glad they did.”

\--

That night, after Stiles had settled himself onto his bed with his headphones and a book in his hands, Derek made his way to Laura’s room. He tapped on the door quietly, opening the door when Laura didn’t immediately tell him not to come in. She was laying sideways on her bed, feet hanging off and her arms out as she played on her phone. 

“Hey,” she greeted, tapping the screen a few times, “what’s up?”

Derek shut the door behind himself. “I talked to Stiles’ dad today,” he muttered. 

“Oh yeah?” Laura perked up a little, but she didn’t take her eyes away from her game. Derek crossed the room to sit at her desk chair, resting an elbow on top of a stack of old mail. He grabbed a hair clip that was in reach, fiddling with it for a second as he tried to form the best explanation he could in his mind.

“He’s worried about Stiles. He hasn’t seen him in years...”

“Mhmm,” Laura agreed.

“So I invited him here, to see Stiles.”

Laura finally looked up from her game, closing out of the app so that her progress wasn’t affected. She rolled onto her back, sitting up sideways against her pillow, hair disheveled and falling into her face. She blew it out of the way, shooting Derek an impressed look.

“Really now? You? Taking initiative?” Laura teased. Derek threw the hair clip at her. She caught it, using one hand to comb the long, chestnut locks out of her face and then using the clip to secure it back. “When’s he coming?”

“Not sure,” Derek frowned, “Soon, though. His pack might want to come.” 

Laura frowned, adjusting her position on the bed to get more comfortable. “I don’t know how I feel about that. I don’t want another pack here... this isn’t....”

“I know,” Derek interrupted, understanding the exact feeling. Ever since their pack had been broken so badly, it was like they were just getting by until they could find a way to start again. They were weak, barely healing, and in possession of an old packmate of theirs. There were too many unknown factors. Still, Stiles’ father had mentioned there was only two, which made things easier. “He said there’s just two of them, probably just kids he grew up with.”

“Maybe, if there’s only two,” Laura amended. “Stiles is ours, now...but he was theirs first.”

“Mmh,” Derek grunted, crossing his arms and leaning against Laura’s desk. “So... should we tell him?”

“What, and ruin a perfectly good surprise?”

“I do like surprises,” Derek mused. A warm feeling of excitement spread through his gut at the thought of the joy Stiles would experience upon seeing his family. He wanted to be the cause of that joy. 

“So, we’re doing this?” 

Laura nodded, “oh yeah. Go get your sister. We’ve got some planning to do.”

\--

“Can... can I call Scott?” Stiles asked hesitantly, that very night, jaw flexing as he clenched and unclenched for a second. Derek was mildly taken aback, if only because Stiles had to be pressured into asking to talk to his dad only a few days ago. It must have meant he was starting to trust them more, which only encouraged Derek to quickly pull his phone out.

“Scott’s your old friend, right? You can call him, you don’t have to ask.”

Stiles’ lips thinned as he pressed them tightly together, brows pinched, and looking conflicted before he finally muttered, “he was also my alpha.”

Derek rose an eyebrow, surprised that Stiles would so easily admit to such a thing. It didn’t really bother him either way but it seemed that to Stiles, it was bad etiquette. Before Derek could think about assuaging his concerns, Cora rolled her eyes. “Okay, and?” she snapped, “he **was** your alpha, but he **is** your friend, isn’t he? So call him.”

All tension immediately left the room and Stiles’ shoulders relaxed just the tiniest bit. The corners of his lips twitched and he glanced over to Derek as if seeking confirmation. Derek nodded, tossing his phone to Stiles. “Fine by me.”

Stiles gave him a grateful smile, heading out of the room as he started to dial a number he must have known by heart. Cora was as silent as Derek, likely listening in to see how the conversation would turn.

“Hello?”

“Hey Scotty,” Stiles croaked, a small waver in his voice.

This time, the pause was hardly there before both Cora and Derek jumped at the sheer decibel of screaming coming over the phone.

“Stiles?! Oh my God, dude! Stiles! Stiles it’s you! Dude, it’s you!” After a pause, Scott blurted, “is it you?”

Stiles chuckled, “Yeah, buddy, it’s me. Been a while, huh?”

“Dude, I--wha--how--”

“It’s a long story...but I’m with another pack in New York now. They’re pretty great...I take care of their uncle.”

“Are you like a nurse or something?”

“Um,” Stiles paused, his breath skipping for a moment. “Sort of. The DCC… they pick up people... like me...and they teach us to control our abilities. They let us, uh, work after a while by helping out families with this... program thing. I think. It’s hard to explain.” As much as Stiles’ heart was pounding, Derek wondered if he believed anything he had just said. Luckily, heartbeats couldn’t be discerned through a phone call. 

“Ah. They could have done it better. Why didn’t they let you come home?”

“Beats me,” Stiles said softly, voice more than a little bitter. 

“Sucks.....” Scott said awkwardly. The quiet that followed was enough to make Derek turn the television up to try and drown out the guilt he felt over the situation as a whole. Realistically, he knew that Stiles would be worse off without them, but he still felt as if he was a captor.

Stiles and Scott talked for what seemed like hours, their voices droning on in the background as Derek and Cora let themselves be absorbed into a rerun of Galaxy Quest. When he finally hung up Derek expected to see him pop out of the bedroom to return the phone, but perked up at the sound of the phone being dialed again.

When Stiles’ father answered, Derek glanced over to Cora, her surprised look most likely reflecting on his own face. They both grinned after a second and Cora brought her hand up for a high-five. Derek almost didn’t give in, but the look of glee on her face when he tapped their palms together was worth the effort. Stiles doing anything without asking permission was a win in their eyes, even if it was a simple as making a phone call. 

A few minutes into the call, Stiles suddenly fell silent and his heart began pounding in his chest. Derek was up and heading for the bedroom without a second thought. The acrid scent of fear was coming from the room when Derek opened the door. 

Stiles was sitting on his bed, clutching the phone with his lips pursed tight.

“Is everything okay?” Derek asked. 

Stiles snapped his head up, “I’m sorry,” he blurted, “I didn’t ask. I’m sorry, I forgot!” Stiles held the phone out, trying to return it to Derek with the call still connected. 

Derek shook his head quickly, pushing Stiles’ hand back. “You don’t need to ask permission to call your dad, or your friend for that matter. I have unlimited minutes and no friends, it’s okay.” 

Stiles stared Derek down, eyes studying him with such intensity that, for a moment, Derek could feel the hairs rise on the back of his neck. Their staring contest was broken by the sound of Stiles’ father on the other line, calling out and asking if everything was alright. 

Turning on his heel, Derek walked out of the room without another word, leaving Stiles to put the phone back to his ear and reassure his dad. 

By the time Stiles finished talking and came back out of the room, Laura was home and working on dinner in the kitchen. Cora had gone off to her room to get some homework done and Derek was looking up his work schedule to see if his part-time job was actually going to use him for once. 

“Thank you.” Stiles said, handing Derek his phone back. “Can I really call whenever?”

“Please do!” Laura called from the kitchen. “I feel like I’m throwing fifty bucks a month into a hole when he doesn’t use his phone.”

“Even my old pack?” Stiles asked, his voice weak and eyes shifting uncomfortably between the two werewolves. Laura finished putting some meat into a pan, and turned to wash her hands off in the sink.

“They will always be your first pack, even if you’re a part of ours now,” she said kindly, giving Stiles her most reassuring smile. 

Stiles sat down on the couch next to Derek, wringing his hands the slightest bit. “They didn’t want to give me up,” he confessed, with a little uncertainty. “They didn’t have a choice.”

“We know, Stiles,” Laura turned back to the stove, rummaging around in the pantry. “It’s okay.”

Stiles turned around on the couch, looking for his giant blanket that had been draped along the back. He dragged it over his shoulders, curling it tight around his body so that only the top of his head was peeking out.

“What if they take me away from you too?” Stiles’ voice was muffled into the blanket so much that Derek wasn’t even sure he was meant to hear it. Words caught in his throat for a moment, the shock rendering even Laura silent.

Derek felt a surge of protectiveness, he was unsure where it came from, and couldn’t stop himself from snarling, “I’d fight for you if it came down to it.”

He knew his mistake the second the words came out, because Laura snapped her head around and narrowed her eyes at him. Stiles must not have picked up on Derek’s behavior being outside of the norm, because all he did was glance over at Derek from his cocoon of blankets with a shocked look. After a pause he adjusted the blanket to sit down on his shoulders and relaxed just the slightest bit, glancing at Derek for a second longer and then turning to watch the television.

Laura, however, was still staring at Derek, her lips a tight line. Derek couldn’t help but back up into the couch a little more, as if he could hide his large frame behind Stiles and his giant comforter. 

There was no escaping Laura once she locked on, which was why Derek found himself cornered after leaving the bathroom. Stiles had gone off to feed Peter dinner and was far out of earshot. 

“What was that?”

“.... I was using the bathroom?” Derek remained stonefaced.

“Earlier,” Laura snapped, knowing full well that her little brother was feigning ignorance. “You know, when you basically offered yourself to Stiles on a platter.”

“I wouldn’t put it that way,” Derek muttered dryly, the back of his neck and ears growing hot. “I was just letting him know he’s safe with us.”

Crossing her arms, Laura scoffed, “right.”

“He’s a scared kid, what else was I supposed to say?” Derek crossed his arms right back at her, standing his ground but trying not to appear as if he was challenging his sister. It was bad enough that Derek was getting protective over Stiles, but he didn’t need Laura getting on his case about it. The sheer desire that Derek had when it came to wanting to make Stiles happy was almost terrifying. He couldn’t think beyond the fact that he was just trying to fix all the pain that Stiles had gone through. 

In all honesty, Derek didn’t want to be forced to admit that he wanted to constantly touch Stiles’ back and shoulders, to leave their pack’s scent all over him. It was too dangerous and everything that entailed from it added more complications than anything. It wasn’t what Stiles needed, Derek knew that well enough.

“It goes no further than that, do you hear me?” Laura said firmly. Derek nodded, ducking his head with shame.

“Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been over two years since I've updated... can't really say I'm sorry... I found my soulmate, we fell in love, got married and now we have a 10 month old son named Oliver. I'm happy, guys. I'm so happy. I've been through a lot of hardships that made it difficult but I'm taking medications for depression and finally getting back into writing. Please accept my apologies for the wait and I ask for your love and support. I want to be a published author and my husband is encouraging me so I'm starting small by working on this fic. My tumblr is now deshonanana and I will be making a fictionpress account and working on my original stories under that name. I don't know when exactly that will happen but please feel free to keep an eye out over there. 
> 
> I will try my hardest to continue this story!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorter chapter than usual, but it's better than nothing, right?

“I’m heading out,” Cora swept into the room, determination in her steps and her phone in hand and showed it to Derek. “Just got the reviews back from Starfire. She cuts a dude’s head off. There’s a showing coming up in an hour. Keys, please.”

Normally, Derek would merely oblige and let Cora go off on her merry way to watch men be slaughtered beneath the hands of aggressive women, but Stiles was staring at the phone in her hand like it was the Holy Grail. Obviously, he was a fan of Starfire. 

“Let’s all go,” Derek said, pushing himself up to get off his bed. He set down the book he’d been reading, gesturing to Stiles. “Stiles hasn’t been to a movie in a while, I bet.”

Cora looked at Derek, stonefaced, and then looked at where Stiles was on the edge of his bed, comic book dangling from his hand and eyes staring at Cora, large and imploring like a small animal. She frowned, and then shrugged and turned around. 

“Fine, but we’re leaving in five minutes. I want a good seat. I’m smuggling snacks, do you want anything?”

“Just grab whatever junk food you can fit in there,” Derek called after her retreating back, getting up to find a pair of socks, eyes skimming the room for where he last chucked his phone. He saw it on Stiles’ pillow, and gestured to it. “Don’t forget to grab the phone before we leave.”

Stiles nodded, already scrambling to change into something more appropriate than sweatpants and a plain t-shirt. 

The theater was nearly packed by the time they arrived. Derek had to stop and look for a long moment to find a place where they could all sit. Stiles was a ball of energy next to him, eyes darting around and a smile on his face. He looked more excited than Derek would have expected from going to see a superhero movie.

“Over here,” Cora grabbed Derek’s arm, pulling him towards the front of the theater. When they headed for the seats near the front, people started getting up and moving. They didn’t just move to help Cora, Derek and Stiles pass--they moved entirely, some even scattering their group up into spare seats. It was like a giant circle had just formed around their group, people warily eyeing Stiles like he would blow up at any moment. Derek scowled, glancing around before his eyes fell onto Stiles and the stricken look on his face--as if the gigantic collar on his throat wasn’t enough of an embarrassment.

Cora let out an angry noise, almost a growl. Derek could see in the dim theater light that her cheeks and neck were starting to flush red. She sat up, turning to Derek who sat on Stiles’ other side. Her voice was loud, even louder against the partial-hush that had come across a good section of the audience. “Man, I must have forgotten to shower, since I just watched everyone move away from where we’re sitting. Pretty rude!”

If at all possible, Stiles went paler. Derek was terrible in these situations, and he felt like a complete idiot when no words or actions came to mind. He could only sit there as someone from the crowd behind them piped up, “It’s not you! It’s that thing next to you!”

With a snarl, Cora whipped her head around. She looked ready to start a fight, tensed up and her lips tight. She opened her mouth, starting to form the words of a reply when Stiles reached out and put his hand firmly on her arm.

“Stop.”

Derek and Cora both stared. Derek’s mind was reeling--Stiles had just told a command to Cora. Granted, it wasn’t that big of a deal...but in a way it still was. Stiles looked terrified, the hand on Cora’s arm nearly trembling. He reeked of increasing anxiety.

Cora huffed and settled back into her seat. She crossed her arms, staring at the screen in dead silence. Stiles didn’t react right away, but then he slowly settled back into his chair as well. The lights dimmed and Derek did the same. It seemed like no one was willing to fight with two werewolves, and Derek honestly didn’t mind having a little space for his pack in a full theater. It made the movie much easier to enjoy as the opening scene began. 

After the first half hour of dialogue and fighting with witty one-liners, Derek had to admit that it was a pretty great movie. Stiles seemed to be enjoying it the most, even going so far as to bark out a few soft laughs at some of the more clever jokes. It was almost halfway through the film when Cora finally relaxed. There was a humorous banter on-screen between the main characters, but Derek’s attention was drawn to his sister. Cora slowly uncrossed her arms, laying one up against Stiles on the rest between them. She was slow to lean in, but when she did it was to mumble the words, “Sorry,” under her breath. It must have taken a lot of work for Cora to muster up the strength to swallow her pride, but Derek couldn’t help but feel a swell of love for his sister. She was trying--more than she ever had with anything since their parents had died--and that was what meant the most to him.

Stiles glanced over to her, hesitating and dropping the grin he’d had on from chuckling. He eyed her for a second, and then ducked his head with a smaller, shyer smile. “It’s okay,” he replied softly, “you meant well.” 

With that, they both resumed watching the film as Derek sat beside them drowning in emotions, chest aching with affection for his pack. Cora glanced at him over Stiles’ head and Derek gave her a curt nod, hoping she knew how proud of her he was. 

Cora narrowed her eyes, nose crinkling at him in disdain and turning her head back to the screen. There was a lot of fireballs, witty insults and screaming, so of course Derek couldn’t help be sucked in once the fighting began again. 

By the time the credits had rolled and Stiles had spent a full minute pulling on both Derek and Cora’s arms to get them to stay for a bonus scene, the theater was mostly empty. Stiles was practically vibrating with energy, his eyes bright and his smile huge. Derek had found the film enjoyable, and Cora’s complaining had been minimal enough that she must have liked it too... but Stiles was on an entirely different level than the Hale siblings. 

“That was great,” he said happily, “really great. I liked that movie. It was funny, it had a good plot. DC is really stepping up, like woah,” As they made their way out of the theater, Stiles seemed to almost forget himself, too busy discussing the finer points of superhero violence with Cora. They reached the car and he looked at it with a split-second of surprise. He glanced up, catching sight of the park across the street and pointing to it. “Want to check it out?”

Derek’s knee-jerk reaction was to turn Stiles down--he wasn’t exactly a fan of screaming children and dogs barking at him every time he walked by--but since Stiles never asked for much, he had to agree. A glance to Cora let him know she thought the same thing. They both let him lead the way after Derek gave a nod of approval. Stiles seemed to get a little more excited with each step, his feet practically springing with energy. Derek took Stiles on a lot of errands, but they never really went out otherwise. It looked like just being outside and having the freedom to move was breathing a new life back into stiles.

He picked up his pace, and so did the Hales. After a moment, Stiles whipped his head around, “can we race?” he asked, “I just really want to run. Race? First one to finish a lap around the park?”

Exchanging a look with his sister, Derek couldn’t help but give in to the odd request. He pulled his hands out from his pockets, gesturing at Stiles to start. “Turtles first.”

Stiles was off in a heartbeat, letting out a sharp, “ha!” and taking off at a sprint. Cora was after him immediately, and Derek not far behind. They let Stiles lead, keeping a steady pace as he started to wear himself out. After a minute, they gained easily once Stiles began lagging. He was taking the turn around a bend of trees that brought them to the sidewalk along the front of the park. He caught sight of Derek and Cora in his peripheral and immediately picked up the pace--as if he could really outrun wolves. 

Letting Stiles get ahead a few feet, Derek turned to smile behind his shoulder at where Cora was jogging lazily. That’s when he caught sight of a police officer running up on them from across the street, hand on his hip like he was going for his weapon. Immediately Derek realized what it must have looked like. Derek and Cora looked human--and Stiles’ collar was identifiable from a half mile away to almost anyone. 

“Stiles, get on the ground, now!” Derek barked, immediately picking up his pace to outrun the officer, who had pulled his taser out as he advanced on Stiles.

Without hesitation, Stiles stumbled to the ground, laying on his stomach and breathing heavily. He started to look back at Derek when he caught sight of the policeman aiming at him. Within seconds his breathing picked right back up, this time laced with a sharp inhale of panic each time. The little wheeze in his lungs that came from his stressed pants was enough to make Derek nearly wolf out as he shoved his body forward to get in between the officer and his packmate. Cora went to Stiles’ side, immediately trying to calm him. 

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to move. I’m trained in rogue druids!” Yelled the officer. 

“He’s not rogue,” Derek snapped. “He was exercising.’

Looking skeptically past Derek’s shoulder, the man frowned. He still had the taser raised, but his trigger finger was no longer in the firing position. “Forgive me, sir, but he was running pretty hard for a standard exercise.”

Stiles let out a soft wheeze, obviously still in mild distress. Part of Derek was screaming to go to his side and check on him, but the stronger half was determined to protect him from harm. 

“He’s out of shape,” Derek countered, “he has to keep up with the pack.” 

It seemed that the werewolf card had, once again, helped Derek out. The officer lowered his weapon, holstering it and nodding. “Apologies, sir. Just taking precautions, is all.”

“I understand. Have a good day,” Derek nodded once at the man, waiting for him to retreat before he turned to crouch down next to Stiles and his sister. 

Though the absence of the police officer seemed to help calm Stiles, he was still breathing hard and his heart didn’t sound ready to regulate any time soon. Cora had him sitting in the grass, kneeling on one leg beside him. Derek pressed his palm against Stiles’ chest, drawing out the painful anxiety that was hurting Stiles. Black veins crawled up his arm, and Cora put her hand on Stiles’ shoulder to do the same. After a moment, Stiles finally began to relax, wavering a little into Derek’s hand. 

It was enough to break what little control Derek had. He dragged Stiles into his arms, holding him tight. Stiles stilled, and then immediately sagged. His arms were trapped under Derek’s crushing grip but his face buried itself against the curve of Derek’s throat. A sigh of warm breath rushed over Derek’s skin, making his hair stand on end. He held on even tighter when Stiles brought his hands up to settle them on Derek’s side, squeezing back as much as he could. 

Derek could feel Stiles’ trembling finally abate. It was another long minute and then, shakily, Stiles muttered, “All right, big guy....we all know you’re allergic to PDA. You can let go now.” 

Immediately pulling away, Derek gave Stiles’ head a gentle shove. Stiles grinned, and Derek went to shove his head again only for Stiles to dodge it. He was taken aback, hand hovering in the air long enough that Stiles laughed softly at the sight. 

“Making fun of Derek? Glad to see there’s a human in there somewhere,” Cora teased, giving Stiles’ shoulder a playful punch. Stiles didn’t seem to think it was as funny, his smile drooping and his eyes falling to the ground a little. 

Quick to react, Derek reached out to touch Stiles’ shoulder. “You _are_ human. I’m human too. We just have parts of us that make us different. Our abilities don’t define us, no matter what anyone tries to tell you. Remember that, okay?”

Stiles didn’t answer, and Derek frowned. 

“Would you take an innocent life?” he prompted, ducking down to try and catch Stiles eyes. Stiles looked up at him with a glower. 

“I don’t want to take _any_ lives! I--”

“That’s what makes you human,” Derek interrupted, voice firm. “As long as you keep that in mind, no one can take your humanity from you.”

Though Stiles was still scowling, he didn’t argue. Instead, he shrugged once and glanced back to the car and then to the Hale siblings. He was somewhat shut off, but at least he seemed to take some of Derek’s words to heart. 

That was enough for Derek, and he gestured to the car. “Let’s get out of here. I’ve got class tonight.”

 

\--

Sheriff Stilinski was due to arrive at the end of the week. Stiles’ two former packmates would be showing up over the weekend once their schedules were free. Everyone had managed to keep it a secret from Stiles, and Derek was almost glad to be killing time by taking Peter to his monthly check-in with his doctor on Friday morning. Stiles was always up for getting out of the house, which made it easier for Derek when all he had to do was drive and fill out the sign-in sheet at the office. 

Once they were back with the doctor, Derek settled himself in one of the chairs beside Stiles while Peter was given the standard blood pressure routine. Peter’s gaze was focused somewhere beyond the man’s shoulder, but he soon trailed it over to Stiles for a long moment.

The doctor followed Peter’s gaze when it continued to be focused for more than a split second. There was a long, awkward pause as Stiles was stared at by everyone in the room. He shrunk into his seat, trying to look as small as possible. Finally, the doctor turned away and continued his examination of Peter. 

“How long have you had the druid for?”

Derek frowned, trying to think of a mental timeline. “Two or three months,” he said quietly, “he helps with Peter.”

Setting some tools aside, the doctor gestured for Stiles to come closer. He wasn’ much taller than Stiles, though his shoulders were broad and his hands swallowed Stiles’ narrow shoulders up. Part of Derk wanted to jump up and pull Stiles away, but he was far too curious to give in to impulse.

“I’m going to put you outside,” the doctor began, talking slow, “I want you to walk down the hall and back.”

“Alone?” Stiles asked quietly. He was given a nod as an answer. Stiles looked at Derek, unsure, but Derek just gave him an useless shrug. If the doctor was the one telling Stiles to do it, surely it should be fine.

Stiles slowly made his way out the door, turning and opening his mouth to ask a question when it was shut in his face. Derek scowled, but then the doctor turned to Peter and resumed his examination. Perhaps the man didn’t want Stiles to be a distraction, but Derek thought it was a little dramatic.

Shining a light into Peter’s eyes, the doctor asked Derek, “how often is he getting stimulation?”

“Uh,,,” Derek’s mind went blank. He couldn’t think of the last time Peter had gone anywhere other than to wander around the apartment . The doctor didn’t seem pleased with this, tucking the light into his pocket as Peter stared off at the wall to his right. 

“He needs to go outside more. His senses are dulling,” said the doctor, wheeling his chair around so he could grab at Peter’s legs and inspect them. “He’s showing some signs of muscle loss. Try to get him walking more, if you can.” 

Peter blinked, now staring at the door, as the doctor rolled his stool away to scribble on his clipboard. The door opened and Stiles came back inside, hesitating but then moving to sit beside Derek when he wasn’t sent away again immediately. 

Finishing up his notes, the doctor unclicked his pen and set it in his pocket, spinning to face the three men.   
“Walks, twice a week. Outside, with nature. More socialization. If you want him to recover at all you need to help him. His responses aren’t bad, but they could be better. He does have a fixation, so that could be interfering with things.” 

The doctor turned to look at Stiles before glancing back to Derek. “Druids in homes can help some patients heal faster. They can be good for the entire family. Suppression collars stop most powers but Druids are natural healers. If you do this right, he can help your uncle recover.” 

Derek didn’t have to look at Stiles to know he was likely preening from the closest thing to praise most druids would ever get. “Unhindered, Druids can save lives. Hindered, the most they can do is give off strong energy that can encourage bodies to heal faster. However....this is something to be cautious of as well. Druids have been killed by unstable patients because they grow so obsessed. Some have freed druids, some have caused druids to kill people by freeing them and forcing them to use powers that many don’t have control over. They are killers. This is always something to consider because your uncle’s mental health is in recovery. We still don’t fully know how the werewolf mind works, so it’s better to be aware of the possible hazards.” 

“He’s not exactly much of anything, let alone a hazard,” Derek mumbled dryly. He could hardly see Peter yelling at anyone, let alone killing someone. Peter seemed to understand Stiles was pack, he would never hurt one of his own. Stiles didn't say much of anything. He was too busy staring at the doctor, as if trying to process the man's words. Peter seemed to understand the conversation, because he frowned softly and reached a hand out to brush the back of his knuckles along Stiles’ bicep. Stiles didn’t even bat an eye, as if so used to the touch that it didn’t even startle him anymore. 

Derek really hadn’t noticed that dynamic before, but now that the subject had been pointed out it was like a big glaring elephant in the room. Silence weighed heavily on them, and Derek decided it was a good time to switch subjects.

“Duly noted. Do we need to make any changes to his diet?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two in one week? whhaaaaa??  
> here's an emotional rollercoaster, comin atcha!

Once Stiles had Peter settled into his room and was reading softly to him, Derek made himself comfortable on the couch to text Laura. It took him a minute to type up everything the doctor had said about Stiles’ involvement, and another longer moment to reply to the thousand questions she fired back. How Laura could talk on the phone, dispatch _and_ text Derek back in a timely manner was somewhat mind boggling. Derek couldn’t even manage backing out of a parking spot and sending a simple “ _omw_ ” to someone. 

Making sure to give Cora a shorter, simpler version of the visit, Derek made himself comfortable on the couch. He snagged his laptop from the coffee table, setting it on his lap and pulling up his work schedule for the week. They cut his hours back constantly, always complaining about how he was never personable to the customers. Thunder rolled outside, followed by sound of rain rushing against the roof. Once again, Derek had no hours. He was going to have to start looking elsewhere for work, once Stiles could be completely left alone to care for Peter. 

As if knowing Derek was thinking about him, Stiles emerged from Peter’s room, heading into the kitchen to get started on whipping up something for lunch. From the look of it, Stiles apparently had a hankering for pizza, because he was rummaging around in the freezer, struggling to get the massive box un-trapped from beneath a heap of frozen meals and vegetables. 

The lights flickered a little, but remained on, and Stiles took that as initiative to continue with heating up pizza for lunch. By the time Cora came home, dripping wet and looking rather crabby, it was ready to be pulled from the oven. Stiles cut it up, dishing it out while Cora changed her clothes and Derek put his laptop on the coffee table. They were halfway through their meal when Laura came bursting in through the door, hair dripping and looking utterly exhausted from her early shift. 

“I’m so hungry,” she moaned, sniffing the air and dropping her back on the kitchen counter. She snagged a slice from the pan on the stove, shoving half of it into her mouth and wandering off to her and Cora’s shared room to get changed.

Derek finished off his plate, dropping it in the sink before heading back into the living room. He snagged the remote, turning on the television and flipping through a few stations until he found an upbeat action film that seemed like everyone would enjoy. Stiles sat on his right and Cora on his left, all three of them squished against each other when Laura came back out to get herself a plate. 

The lights flickered again, long and shuddering, before snapping on and then going out entirely. With the fans off and nothing but the noise of rain outside, the sound of Laura munching on pizza became that much louder. 

A pause, and then Laura mumbled, “that sucks,” around her food. Cora sighed loudly and Derek saw her phone light up as she started to mess around on it.

“How does a modern century werewolf survive a power outage? The same way everyone else does...by going on their phones,” she mumbled dryly.

“Ha,” Laura snorted dryly. Right after she swallowed, the power came on once again. The TV didn’t, and after a few attempts with the remote, Stiles stood up to look behind it. 

Frowning, Stiles mumbled, “I think one of the strips went bad,” and leaned in further to try and get it to work. He was in the middle of pulling it out when the lights flickered again and the outlet flashed, popping loudly and releasing the stench of burning electricity. Stiles jerked, but he didn’t scream or even fall back. He went utterly still, the cord in his hand dropping to the ground. 

“Stiles!” Derek was on his feet the second he realized what was going on. Stiles didn’t react, his entire body unresponsive like he’d just shut down the second he’d been electrocuted. Derek reached him, hand instantly coming to touch Stiles’ arm and pull at whatever pain he must be feeling. Stiles was unresponsive, so much like that first day that Derek momentarily forgot to breathe. His hand tightened on Stiles’ arm and he gave him a firm shake. _“Stiles!”_

Inhaling sharply, Stiles’ entire body shuddered. He didn’t look at Derek, didn’t even blink for the longest moment. Laura must have gotten tired of waiting, because she stood up and made her way over.

“Is he okay?”

“I don’t know, he’s not answering me,” Derek said, giving Stiles another shake. Stiles tensed, and he almost looked like he’d snapped out of it, but instead he took an unsteady step back out of Derek’s hold, like it was disorienting to be touched. Laura stepped up, closing in on Stiles’ personal space.

“Look at me, now,” she said firmly, as if trying to recreate their first encounter. Her plan backfired horribly, because Stiles’ heartbeat kicked up a notch and his eyes darted around the room for a moment before landing on her. His gaze was unfocused, like he wasn’t fully aware of what was going on. He stepped back, stumbling a little when Laura advanced after him.

“I’m sorry!” Stiles blurted, voice soft and scared, “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again!”

“Do what again?” Laura asked incredulously. Stiles shook his head, hands trembling as he tripped over himself in a mad rush to start picking up clutter in the room. Cora had looked up from where she’d been playing on her phone, glancing over at Derek in confusion. Derek had no idea what had caused Stiles to react so strangely, and he didn’t like how scared he seemed.

“Stiles,” Derek advanced, reaching out to take the book that Stiles was trying to put on the shelf. Stiles let him, instead turning to pick something else up.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles repeated hoarsely, gathering dishes off the coffee table, head ducked low. It was then that Derek could see the burn on his hand from where he’d been electrocuted, the skin raw and angry looking.

Laura intercepted Stiles on his way to the kitchen. “Stop. Stop apologizing--stop!”

Stiles froze for only a split second, and then a myriad of expressions flickered across his face before he set the dishes down suddenly and abruptly. He turned on his heel, shuffling out of the room as fast as he could without actually running. 

Frustrated, Derek turned and leveled Laura with his most unimpressed stare ever. She shrugged helplessly, her expression clearly stating _’I handled that poorly’_ , and Derek couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He followed after Stiles, unsurprised to find him picking up Derek’s dirty laundry and putting it in the basket. 

“Stiles, calm down. What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles breathed out, his voice cracking, “I just--I have to fix it. I did bad.”  
.  
“You didn’t do _anything_!” Derek implored, grabbing Stiles and forcing the frantic druid to face him. “The wall socket shocked you when the power surged!”

Stilling in Derek’s arms, Stiles shook his head slowly. It was like watching a fog lift, though, as he processed Derek’s words. His face immediately began to turn red and blotchy, the rims of his eyes growing wet as they flushed with unshed tears. His eyes locked on Derek’s, darting all over his face as if trying to detect a lie. He clenched his teeth, lips tight and jaw flexing. 

“I want to go home,” he finally croaked. Derek dragged Stiles into his arms, crushing his thin frame tightly to his body. Stiles clutched to his back, fingers curling into the fabric of Derek’s shirt. “I don’t want to be like this!” It came out as a cry, and ended as a sob as Stiles broke down in Derek’s embrace. Derek had no idea what to do other than hold Stiles as he shook in his arms and began to cry. 

With one hand rubbing along the bumpy expanse of Stiles’ spine, Derek rested his other palm along the back of Stiles’ neck and applied what he hoped was a comforting pressure. He could sense his sisters behind him, both hovering in the doorway, worried and confused just as much as he was. Stiles didn’t cry for long, but he sagged in Derek’s arms after a moment like it had been hours. Derek guided him to his bed, sitting with him as Laura slipped out of the room. Cora came over and sat down on Stiles’ other side, handing him some tissues.

Stiles sniffled loudly, taking them and blowing his nose. His eyes were puffy and he looked like he’d been plowed down by a truck. He threw the tissues at the trash, taking more and blowing a second and then third time before he was satisfied. The only sound in the room was the patter of the rain outside and Cora’s hand rustling against fabric as she rubbed Stiles’ back. 

“I miss my dad,” Stiles said hoarsely, looking down at the tissues in his hands with a wobbling lip. “Guess it got to me more than I realized--”

“Don’t apologize,” Derek cut in quickly, cupping the back of Stiles’ head firmly and rubbing his thumb over the short hairs above his ear. Stiles pressed back against the touch, closing his eyes and swallowing heavily. “Don’t apologize for being human.” Derek shared a look with Cora over Stiles’ head. He wanted so badly to tell Stiles that his father was about to board a plane at that very moment to come see him, but they’d all agreed to let it be a surprise. The guilt ate him up. 

Laura entered the room again, a steaming mug of hot chocolate in her hands. She brought it over, handing it to Stiles and smiling comfortingly. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she apologized, “I was worried.”

“It’s okay,” Stiles mumbled, taking the mug, “thank you.” Taking a small sip, Stiles kept his eyes downcast, watching the swirls of milk and cocoa dance around each other. Laura nodded, heading back out of the room to likely assess the damage to the outlet. 

Cora grabbed Stiles’ blanket, bringing it up to wrap around his shoulders and then swinging her arm around his back in a loose embrace. She rested her head on his shoulder, quietly getting her phone out to resume playing on it. Stiles seemed grateful for the silence, taking his time to sip his drink and breathe slowly. Derek moved his hand, throwing it over Stiles’ and Cora’s backs and leaning onto them both so that Stiles was crushed snugly in the middle. He stared off at the wall, replaying the scene in his head again and again in the silence of the room. 

The hush was finally broken by Stiles, once he’d finished his drink. “I’m sorry I lost control,” he confessed softly. Derek shrugged, turning to look at Stiles’ mop of chestnut hair that was in complete disarray. 

“No one ever has control all the time,” he pointed out softly. 

Stiles’ smile looked more bitter than anything, his thumbs fiddling with the rim of the mug, “must be nice...”

Not knowing how to respond, Derek stood instead. He took Stiles’ mug, “get some sleep,” he said. Cora stood up, putting her phone away and taking Stiles’ blanket so he could get settled on the bed. Derek grabbed a corner, pulling it out for her so that Cora could dramatically sweep the quilt up into the air before letting it fall over Stiles’ entire body. Stiles pushed it down from his face, giving the Hale siblings what might have been a smile, but looked more like a weak pull at the corners of his lips. 

Cora handed Stiles his headphones and they both left the room. Derek shut off the light, but kept the door cracked so he could enter easily later on. When he and Cora made it to the living room, they shared a look with Laura before all three of them flopped onto the couch in a pack pile that Derek didn’t know he needed until his body was thrumming with the happy feeling of being with family. 

\--

Stiles’ father arrived early that morning, knocking gently just a little after seven. Stiles was asleep, but the Hale siblings were all wide awake. Laura was the one who answered the door, taking her position as alpha by greeting him first. 

“Laura Hale?” Was the first thing out of the man’s mouth. He was dressed in a pair of jeans with a green tee and brown leather jacket, but his stance and the way his eyes seemed to bore through all of them screamed authority. Laura reached out to shake his hand, stepping aside to let him enter.

“Yes, it’s good to meet you. You’ve talked to Derek, and this is my sister, Cora.”

Derek shook the man’s hand, keeping his grip firm but not painful. Stiles’ father did the same. Cora merely waved, retreating to the couch now he’d been allowed into the house. Pressing his hands together, Stiles’ father looked around for a quick moment and then frowned. “Where is he?”

“Sleeping,” Derek said. “He had a bad night. Panic attack.”

“Ah,” Stiles’ father seemed oddly calm about it, in a way that made Derek feel like he’d had experience with such things. “Can I see him?”

“Of course,” Derek replied. He gestured for the man to follow, and made his way down the hall. He could hear his sisters tailing after them, likely excited to see Stiles’ reaction.

Stiles slept through his father’s entrance, and even sitting on the bed. He drowsily opened his eyes when his headphones were removed, gaze wandering around tiredly before they closed again. He drew in a deep breath, shifting and rolling on his side. His father chuckled softly, reaching out and petting at his hair. 

“Hey kid,” he said hoarsely, two words that sounded like a thousand unspoken emotions. Stiles’ eyes snapped open immediately, turning and looking at his father in disbelief. After a beat, he blinked.

“D-dad?” 

“You got bigger,” his father responded instead. Stiles didn’t speak a single word, eyes frantic and his face expressionless as he lunged forward into his father’s arms. He was hugged back immediately and the two clutched to each other for what seemed like hours. Stiles finally snapped out of it enough to bury his face into his father’s throat with a childlike whine, practically clawing at his back like he wanted to get even closer. He shifted and pulled back only long enough to clamber into the man’s lap for a better cling. Not missing a beat, Stilinski had one hand around Stiles’ bottom and the other around his upper back, cradling his child with the desperation that only a parent’s love could have.

“It’s okay, son,” Stilinski said gently as Stiles began to sniffle, keening softly in an attempt to stop himself from crying, “it’s all right.”

Feeling as if the two needed more privacy, Derek turned to leave the room, ushering Cora out when he saw that she was recording. Laura was already gone, having slipped out at some point during Stiles’ reaction. Instead, she was at the stove, heating up oatmeal and preparing a tray to bring to Peter for breakfast.

Derek made his way into Peter’s room to wake him, turning on the lap and almost jumping out of his skin when it flickered on to illuminate Peter sitting up, staring blankly at the wall across from him. There was a tray in his lap, a half-completed puzzle of some puppies scattered across the surface. Peter had one piece in his hand but he wasn’t paying attention to it anymore. 

“Good morning,” Derek said softly, “How are you?”

Setting down the puzzle piece and then slowly looking at it as he notched the edges into place, Peter said nothing. Derek shrugged, instead grabbing his water glass and leaving to go fill it up. When he returned and set it down, Peter looked at him this time, frowning.

“Who are you? Where is the light?”

“Right here,” Derek flipped the switch for the overhead light. Peter blinked at the harshness of it for a second, still frowning heavily at Derek, who said, “I’m Derek, your nephew.”

He didn’t seem very pleased with the answer, now staring up at the light unblinkingly. Laura bustled in with his breakfast, setting it up for him and then taking a seat on the corner of the bed. “We’re going for a walk today, Peter,” she said, gesturing between Derek and herself. “We’re going to take you to the park so you can get some sun.”

Peter pushed some food around with his fork, shoving eggs off of the plate and onto the tray. He stabbed it a few times, and then finally brought some into his mouth to eat. Laura waited another beat, and then forced a smile, pushed herself up and gave Peter a kiss on the head. “I’ll come help you get dressed when you’re done eating,” she chirped, glancing over at Derek and nodding to let him know she was handing Peter’s care back over to him before slipping out of the room again. 

By the time they finally headed out the door as a trio, it was an hour later. Cora had volunteered herself to stay--mostly because she wanted to play on her computer--so that Stiles and his father wouldn’t have to be disturbed, but Peter always took a long time to help dress. He could do it on his own, but most times he would refuse to put on a certain article of clothing. 

The walk to the park was bearable. With each Hale sibling holding onto one of Peter’s elbows, his shuffling was closer to air-walking than anything. Once they got onto the walking path, Derek let Peter carry more of his own weight and slowed his pace. Laura let go of his other elbow, reaching up to tie her hair back after the fifth gust of wind blew it into her eyes. 

On the second lap around the park, Peter slowed to a stop in front of a bench with an older woman beside a young girl. The woman was a druid, it was easy to notice the collar from where they’d stopped. She looked like she’d seen better years, her dark skin sagging with wrinkles and her hair more gray than anything. The little girl was tossing crackers to a few ducks, reaching into the woman’s bag every so often to retrieve more. She had on a gingham dress, black curls wrapped into tight pigtails to keep them out of her face. 

When Peter didn’t move after another long moment, Derek pulled on his arm until he stumbled a little and continued on the path. He turned his head as they passed the druid and the girl, watching the woman stand after a moment and softly say, “it’s time to go home.”

“Yes, nana,” the girl chirped.

Derek whipped his head around, glancing back at the two and focusing more on the girl. She had no collar on, she was a human--or at least she wasn’t a druid. She seemed content with holding her grandmother’s hand as the druid guided her down a different sidewalk. He watched them go for another moment, mind reeling with the realization of just how many lives were being impacted by the DCC and their laws. 

He frowned, following Peter as he made his way along the sidewalk with his feet making a soft, _schff schff_ , with each step. When they passed the bench again where the druid woman once sat, Peter settled down on it, staring off at the canopy of trees nearby. Laura shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket, scuffing one heel on the sidewalk and then looking up at Derek.

“How are classes?”

“Fine,” Derek murmured, “not a lot of homework, and I got my hours cut again for not smiling enough or something.”

“Ah,” Laura nodded sagely, pursing her lips and shrugging, “customer service is overrated.”

“Yep.” Derek crossed his arms, leaning his hip along the side of the bench. 

Laura peered up at the sky, shutting her eyes and breathing in low and deep. “I’m thinking about getting a pet...like a cat or something.”

Taken aback, Derek blurted the first thing that came to mind, “are you insane?”

With a laugh, Laura shrugged. “All Stiles does is clean the house and watch Peter. He needs a companion.”

“I’m there,” Derek pointed out, crossing his arms and scowling. It wasn’t that he disliked cats, he just preferred dogs. “Why don’t we get a dog?”

“Too much work,” Laura pointed out, “there are going to be days that Stiles will be by himself. He can’t take the dog for a walk on his own. Someone will notice. Besides, cats are low maintenance. We could go to a shelter.”

It sounded to Derek like Laura had already made up her mind. She was only telling him as a courtesy because he often complained about her habit of spontaneous decisions and she likely didn’t want to hear it later when there was already a cat in the apartment. Sighing in defeat, Derek glanced down at where Peter was watching some ants creep around his shoe. 

“So when are we getting this cat?”

“Later,” Laura answered quickly, sending relief washing through Derek. At least she wasn’t being too impulsive. “Maybe after everyone’s left and things settle down again. Stiles is going to miss his family, it’ll be a good distraction.” 

Derek hadn’t forgotten that Stiles’ small two-man pack was showing up in just a few hours. Part of him was dreading it, if only for the fact that he hated dealing with strangers in his house, but he knew that this was going to be a huge part of helping Stiles overcome whatever had been done to him by the DCC. At least he wouldn’t have to try to juggle a new pet and foreign werewolves in his home at once. 

“Is it in our budget?” Derek mentally went over all of the things a cat could possibly need, but he had no idea how much any of it cost. It had been a long time since they’d had any pets, and that had been when Derek had no financial obligations.

Pulling out her phone and tapping away on it for a minute, Laura hemmed and hawed until she found what she was looking for. Peter stood, shuffling off down the sidewalk and the two siblings meandered after him.

“We get a thousand dollar living stipend each month for Stiles. He’s got all the things he needs and there’s still a few hundred left. I know after this we have to put it towards bills, but it’s technically Stiles’ money so we should get something for him first and foremost.”

“It’s your choice,” Derek murmured, though they both already knew the answer. Laura smiled a little, looking far too excited about the idea of getting a pet. Derek was starting to wonder who the cat was really for. 

“I know.” 

\--

Upon returning to the apartment, Laura guided Peter into his room to settle him into bed for a nap and Derek went to check on Stiles and his father. The two were both fast asleep, Stiles cradled in his father’s arms like a child and the blankets pulled up to their shoulders. Derek shut the door, leaving them be to catch up on sleep. 

He headed back into the living room, flopping on the couch and grabbing his laptop to kill some time before lunch. Cora had volunteered a few days prior to pick up Stiles’ friends, claiming that she was taking initiative in the pack and had questions to ask them before they were reunited with Stiles. Both Derek and Laura had been impressed, and since Laura had to work that afternoon, Derek was entirely fine with letting Cora wade through airport traffic with a manual transmission. 

When Stiles and his dad emerged from the bedroom, Derek was in the midst of pulling out supplies to make sandwiches. Laura was already at work and Cora had left roughly fifteen minutes prior to pick up Stiles’ old pack so it was up to him to keep Stiles oblivious for the next hour. “Sleep well?” Derek untwisted the wire around a loaf of bread.

“Best sleep I’ve had in years,” Stiles’ father said happily, rubbing his hand along Stiles’ back--as if he couldn’t bear to take his hands off his son entirely for fear of him disappearing. Stiles leaned into the touch for a minute and then took a seat at the table with his dad following suit. 

Since Derek didn’t know how Stiles or his father preferred their sandwiches, he finished setting everything up and gestured for them to come into the kitchen. “Come make yourself some food,” he said, and grabbed some bread for himself. 

Stiles’ father got up but gestured to his bag by the door. “I’ve got some stuff to give you, go on and get your food,” he made his way to a backpack that looked like it had once belonged to Stiles when he was younger. It was covered in buttons and patches from all sorts of shows and comics that Derek had a vague familiarity of. 

Once everyone was settled at the table with their sandwiches and drinks, Stiles’ father reached into the backpack and pulled out a shoe box, setting it down in front of his son. “Kept up your collections for you,” he said softly. Stiles’ eyes bugged out a little and he dropped his sandwich, cheeks stuffed full of food, and pawed at the box before wrenching off the lid with a look of glee. 

The first thing he did was flip through the comics as a whole, making a myriad of sounds around his food. He set certain issues aside--it looked as if he was picking his favorites to read first--and by the time he’d finished eating, the comics had been rearranged into four different piles. He stacked all of them together and then set them back in the box except for the top one. This one, he stared at for a long time, a smile on his face as he traced the images on top with a look of longing. Finally, Stiles peered up at his dad. 

“Thank you,” he said, setting the comic down and throwing his arms around his dad’s shoulders. “Thank you,” this was sniffed out, like he was finally letting his emotions get the best of him. Stiles’ father held him tightly, rubbing his back and then resting a hand on the short hair at the nape of Stiles’ neck.

“I knew I’d see you again,” he said firmly, “just didn’t know when.”

Stiles pulled away, all smiles, and opened his mouth to say something when he froze. His eyes seemed to cloud over for a second before he snapped back into focus and then leapt to his feet. Derek took a step back in surprise when Stiles rushed past him, bolting for the door and flinging it open. There was a scream on the other side that had Derek and Stiles’ father come running, but it was only to see Stiles in a heap in the hallway with another man who looked to be the same age. 

“Scott!” Stiles cried, “Scott!” he repeated it like he couldn’t actually comprehend it. Scott wasn’t even talking, too busy burying his face into Stiles’ throat and huffing long and deep with a blissed out look that Derek knew all too well. He may have been young, but any werewolf with half a brain could tell that he was an alpha from his behavior. Laura had done much of the same thing once they had found Cora after she’d gone missing during the fire. 

A redheaded woman knelt down next to the two, reaching out and putting her hand on Stiles’ back. Stiles glanced up, shouted, “Lydia!” and then burst into tears. Lydia threw her arms around Stiles and Scott, the three of them clutching tightly to each other as Stiles as he tried to talk through his tears. It was mostly incoherent apologies and exclamations of disbelief, but the message was loud and clear. This has been what Stiles needed, to see his family again after so many years and to heal broken bonds. 

Cora stepped around the group, almost expressionless except for the glossiness in her eyes and the red around the rims. She leaned up against Derek’s side and Derek put his arm over her shoulders. Just watching the reunion has brought up a strange surge of emotions in Derek, and he gave his sister’s arm a gentle squeeze. 

Stiles’ father approached the pile of limbs, reaching out to put his hand on Stiles’ head. “Let’s take this inside,” he said hoarsely, having fallen victim to the emotional scene as well. Stiles looked up at his dad, practically glowing despite his ruddy cheeks and stuffy nose. He nodded, sniffling a little and letting Lydia cup his face with a watery grin and wipe at his tears in a motherly fashion. 

Derek and Cora grabbed up their luggage, leading the way inside and setting them out of the way in the living room. Cora would be taking the group to a hotel later, but letting them see Stiles had been top priority.

As everyone filed into the room, Scott turned to face Derek, now that he’d gotten his fill of Stiles’ scent. 

“Thank you,” he said, voice thick and rough with unshed tears. He’d manage to keep it together so far, and Derek was rather impressed. He nodded, reaching a hand out to shake Scott’s.

“Good to meet you,” Derek said, “Stiles has had a rough few years before we found him. I’m glad we could give him this.”

Scott glanced over to where Lydia and Stiles were on the couch, talking softly. She was touching every part of him that wasn’t covered with clothes. She wasn’t human, and she wasn’t a werewolf, but there were so many supernatural subspecies that Derek honestly couldn’t place her. Either way, it seemed like her connection with Stiles seemed to be on a level different than anyone else’s. Derek wondered temporarily if she might have been another druid, but something told Derek that wasn’t the case. 

“He manifested her powers when they took him,” Scott mumbled, “she had nightmares for years of Stiles being killed. I think she’s having a hard time believing he’s really here.” 

Looking back at Derek, Scott’s face was grim. “He’s different,” he said, “he’s...changed.”

“I know.”

“They did something to him.”

“We know.”

Scott watched Derek, searching his face for something, but Derek didn’t know what. “Can you promise they won’t take him again?”

“No,” Derek confessed, glancing to Stiles and Lydia. “I wish I could, but I can’t.”

Sighing, Scott dug his hands into his pockets. “I can’t hold it against you....we couldn’t save him either.” 

Everything in Derek’s core screamed that it was wrong, that they couldn’t just give up on Stiles. It was unfair, that he should go through so much when he had done nothing to deserve it. It made Derek’s blood boil, made him want to destroy everything related to the DCC and their heinous acts....but that rage fizzled when his rational side showed him images of Stiles being taken away, of him being killed because Derek tried to fight something stronger than all of them combined. 

Feeling helpless, Derek curled his hands into fists and drew in a deep breath. As if sensing Derek’s inner turmoil, Stiles glanced over him. He looked confused for a second, but when their eyes met he gave Derek a small grin, mouthing the words, “thank you,” and making all of Derek’s frustrations die off.

He couldn’t fight the DCC, but he could do whatever was in his power to keep Stiles happy. That was all that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> o:  
> derek don't fight the government! you'll never win!


	9. Historical Timeline of Druid Events

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Events involving druids in history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this helps!

Druids in history: 

Druids were worshipped in the old days. Many were seen as more than human, because of the way they could manipulate nature around them. In essence, Druids can channel and control the enrgy of the things around them--mainly trees and the like. 

After a few hundred years, people began to realize that druids could be killed with swords and spears, and that they bled and felt pain the way others did. Many of them became enslaved, used as amusement and labor dogs because of their super-human abilities, abused because of their mortality.

Slavery ended slowly, but was gone by the late 1700's. Around the early to mid 1800s, witch-hunts began for druids, because they were still as feared as ever. 

 

In 1911: Druids were housed in ‘projects’ for their safety. Mostly segregated. 

1923: 17 year old Gerald Kilmer hunted down classmates and killed them in a ritual sacrifice. He managed to kill 5 of 7 before he was apprehended.

1925: Classification system emerges. Super-humans, Human, Sub-Human, Monster. 

1927: Unknown druid drowns a small child in a bubble of summoned water. Towns people hunted and killed the druid before police could get involved.

1932: Druids are re-classified from monster to a sub-human category. (super-human which is werewolves and vamps. Banshees are sub-human. kanima is monster.) This allows druids new areas where they can purchase homes and find work. 

1944: Joseph and Catherine Bay were protesting druidic discrimination when joseph was shot by a police officer. Catherine wiped out half of the entire street, including innocents and fellow protesters.

1945: Druid child accidentally kills a neighbor child. Is hunted and killed by townspeople.

1947: Druid uprising starts to form. Symbols and slogans. “Once Gods, Still Feared” and things like that. 

1955: Political leader trying to pass a law that would re-classify druids as monsters and potentially get them expelled from certain areas is assassinated. Riots begin, fights break out. Many innocent druids are killed.

1961: Law passes that requires all druids be ‘cataloged’

1967: Druid poverty level is at an all time high. Unemployment rises as the cataloging system results in even greater discrimination.

1970: anti-discrimination act for druids as well as other non-humans is passed. Druid employments rise slowly

1975: Anti-segregation law passes for public schools. 

1976: 12 year old Emma Larsen manifested her powers during a dispute with classmates. She brought the entire building down and killed 83 children, and injured hundreds more. She and most of the students around her were killed in the downfall. The only survivors were two werewolf boys who were able to survive and heal their injuries. 

1979: Druid testing becomes enforced. All children must be tested for the druid potential before being allowed to attend public school. Those testing positive are only allowed to attend “druid-sanctioned” school zones. Most are not in good areas or in places with a high poverty line.

1983: 14 year old Michael Allen kills three classmates during a dispute. He injures two school officers and a teacher before one officer shoots and kills him.

1988: The Druid Rehabilitation Center is established. Families have the option to sign their children or family members up if they are druids who have strong powers or are hard to manage. The Rehab Center is a privately owned company in the beginning. When signing in family members, paperwork includes seizure of the druid’s individual rights--many don’t read the fine print when signing. There were a lot of bad experiments done by the DRC. 

1991: Josephine Stevens escapes the DRC, kills fourteen people before she’s brought down by state police on the highway. 

1995: The DRC is put under investigation for performing illegal lobotomies on patients as well as other forms of ‘therapy’ that are not considered safe medical practices anymore. The DRC is shut down.

2000: The DRC re-emerges as the Druid Care Center. 

2001: Jeff Kearns kills five at homecoming and burns down a section of the school building. 

2003: Law passes that all children who test positive as a druid must be taken to the DCC for their education. 

2009: The DCC opens up Druid fostering to study groups. 

2013: Druid fostering is open to the public.


End file.
